It's A Heart Attack That You Feel
by heavy80
Summary: Tegan and Sara's biggest fan discovers their biggest secret. She's known the twins for years but didn't know just what she was in for when she started to get pulled into their personal crisis. WARNING: Quincest, twincest, incest - Don't like it, don't rea
1. Remove Us from the Scene of the Crime

**Dear Potential Readers: Well, I thought I'd try writing something just for fun, and somehow it has actually turned out to be longer than the second Harry Potter novel (and nearly as long as the third!) Writing this story has been more fun, mind-bending, and thought-provoking than I ever thought possible, and it's not even done yet! Even if you are opposed to Quincest and/or hate reading things as long as Harry Potter novels, I hope you'll give it a try and see if maybe it can make you see things in a different way, even a little bit! At the very least, I hope that I can make think, make you feel, make you laugh, warm your heart, and bring on some tears. Please please always feel free to tell me your thoughts, every chapter of the way! This has been a labour of love, and hearing people's responses to it is the most rewarding thing of all. Enjoy!**

**~ The Author**

**Chapter 1: Remove Us from the Scene of the Crime**

Jamie got there first, but first was still too late. She dropped her backpack on the grimy pavement and took a moment, hands on knees, to catch her breath. She and Kim had run most of the sixteen blocks from the venue, where they had lingered too long, and that was why she was winded now, in a piss-smelling alley at 1:37am.

"Fuck," she muttered, taking a deep breath, hands on knees, head down. She was almost convinced she could smell the exhaust from the last bus still hanging in the frigid night air. Kim's footfalls were distant, then closer, then slow and heavy as she reached the rancid lane behind the port authority bus terminal.

"Ah, fuck," Kim swore, gasping. Jamie gave a quick glance at her breathless, red-faced travel buddy. "Not again," Kim moaned, as Jamie posted something about hypothermia on Twitter and hoped that the wheezing, gasping Kim wasn't going to have a heart attack right there in the alley. Her own breathing had returned to normal, as running was something she, unlike Kim, did regularly, and now she was starting to feel the biting cold.  
"Why do you always have to hang around so long?" Kim asked, exasperated, exhausted.

"Why do you think?" Jamie replied, not taking her eyes off the screen of her cellphone to acknowledge the accusatory expression in her frustrated companion's eyes. Kim sighed, taking off her cap and rubbing a sleeve across her sweaty forehead, pulling the cap back on, down low over her eyebrows. Jamie sat down on her backpack, indifferent. It was inane to argue with Kim about why they had missed the bus. What difference would that make? The last bus back to DC was gone and they were in a sketchy lane behind the bus terminal at 1:40am and it was fucking cold. If Kim wanted to gripe about how Jamie was always late, she couldn't really argue. It was true. And she had lingered at the venue too long for the same reason that she'd arrived at the venue six hours early, and Kim knew why. She knew but didn't understand that some things are not really a choice.

"Well, let's go to a hotel then," Kim said, still gasping for breath. Jamie's eyes remained locked on her cellphone screen, her face illuminated faintly in its light, ghostly.

"I don't want to pay two hundred dollars for a hotel down here when the bus costs maybe nine dollars," Jamie said.

"When's the next bus, then?" Kim asked.

"Five," she replied, stuffing her phone and her icy fingers into the pockets of her pea coat, her shoulders hunched the way people do when they're cold, the way people do when they are self-conscious about being taller than all their friends.

"I'm not waiting here for four more hours," Kim protested. "It's freezing and it smells like piss in here!" Jamie shrugged.

"A cold smell's better than a hot smell," she said optimistically. Kim just stared at her. "Go ahead and get a hotel room if you want. I'm saving my money for the tour." This had been Jamie's sixty-fifth show. There were a lot of tour dates remaining and she wasn't going to spend money she didn't have on hotels when she needed to spend the money she didn't have on shows.

"You'll freeze to death or get raped or something," Kim said, aggravated.

"Doubtful," Jamie said. Kim stared at Jamie, hands in her pockets. Jamie met Kim's eyes briefly. She was never much for prolonged eye contact.

"Okay, well I'm going then," Kim said at last.

"Okay," Jamie replied. "See you later, then."

Kim paused for long enough to be sure that Jamie wasn't going to say anything else and then walked off. Jamie sighed, lonely and relieved. She drew her phone from her pocket again, and quickly became the mayor of PABT on foursquare.

. . . . . . . .

"Yeah, that one is like a block closer," Tegan said, "but the other one is way better."

"I don't think I'd go so far as to call it _way be__tter,_" Sara retorted as she and her sister turned onto 41st street.

"The slices are like twice as big," Tegan said.

"They are slightly bigger," Sara argued, shivering. "But the one on tenth is cheesier."

"Cheesier isn't better," said Tegan, turning her collar up against the cold air.

"It is when you're talking about pizza," Sara replied to her twin. "Why are we going this way?"

"It's quicker," Tegan said lightly, taking her sister's arm and leading her.

"It's also like. . .the kind of place you take people when you want to rape and murder them," Sara muttered. "Are you planning on raping and murdering me?"

"Can't rape the will - shit!" Tegan hissed sharply, quickly encircling Sara's waist and pulling her around the corner into the alley.

"Tegan, what the fuck-"

"Shhhh," Tegan whispered, clasping a hand over Sara's mouth and pressing in close, pressing her hips into Sara's hips, and both of them back into the brick wall. Sara breathed against her sister's hand, as Tegan leaned in close, pressing against Sara more closely still. "Don't move," Tegan murmured, her face inches away from Sara's. "It's that fucking idiot who got on stage and got thrown out of the club. . ."

Sara's eyes remained locked on Tegan's as the older twin removed her hand from the mouth of the younger, but not without brushing her fingertips across Sara's lips. Tegan's pelvis shifted against Sara's, and the color rose in Sara's face.

"We don't want him to see us. . . like this. . . either," Sara breathed, as Tegan's eyes wandered down to Sara's mouth, and she bit her own lower lip. Tegan moved her hands to Sara's sides, and Sara drew in her breath and her eyes rested on Tegan's, whose eyes reflected back her own fear and uncertainty and, Sara's stomach twisted to recognize it: longing. She knew what her sister looked like when she was happy, when she was scared. . . and that was not how she looked when she brought her face just a little closer to Sara's.

"Shit, Tegan-" she hissed, at that moment, her eye catching something over Tegan's shoulder, pressing a hand against her sister's chest.  
"Someone's there!"

Tegan turned quickly to see a girl, perhaps thirty feet away, hunched down against the wall.

"Did she see us?" Sara whispered, a little knot of panic in her gut.

"I don't. . . Hey, isn't that Jamie?" Tegan exclaimed, recognizing the telltale ponytail that fell to the girl's waist.

"Holy fuck, our biggest fan just saw you ...". Sara stopped, flushing in the amber light.

"Saw me what?" Tegan asked, daring her to say it, maintaining the pressure with her hips that kept Sara trapped against the wall. Sara's brow creased. She opened her mouth; closed it. Why did Tegan always want to make her say things that should never be said? Shame settled in Sara's stomach like a brick. "What?" Tegan repeated, soft but insistent.

"Tegan, stop it!" Sara said, pushing her sister back and scooting around her. With a tense but beseeching look over her shoulder, Sara quickly crossed the narrow street. The older twin followed, scowling at Sara's back, at the hot frustration she left behind.

. . . . . . . .

"_Look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive_."

That's what Tegan was singing the first time Jamie set had eyes on her. What Jamie asked herself, standing there at Tegan's feet next to her no-longer-girlfriend, was _how could anyone possibly say that to you_? From that moment, she could no more cease her relentless following of Tegan than a suicide could stop falling after letting go of the ledge. Falling was falling. She was musing over that in her half-dream state, irritated with her own hopeless emotions that left her freezing in an alley in the middle of the night, when a soft touch on the top of her head startled her, and she awoke with a jump.

"Hey, Jamie," said an affable voice, and Jamie felt her heart leap up into her throat to see that face - those faces - smiling down at her.

"Oh- hi!" she said, caught off-guard, her brain still addled with sleep.

"Were you sleeping here in the freezing cold?" Sara asked.

"In this dark, creepy, smelly alley?" Tegan added, incredulously, with a grin so charming that all the reality surrounding it faded and receded and it was just Tegan standing there in the black universe.

Jamie was flustered; her pulse raced. She forced herself to conceal it, to be calm, as much as she could. They were both looking at her, then, and the two pairs of eyes simultaneously staring at her always gave her the startling reminder that they were identical, and both of them intently looking at her at the same time, expectantly, always multiplied her nerves exponentially.

"Uh, I guess I was sleeping, a little," she said with a short laugh, and the act of rubbing her eyes prevented her from seeing Sara's sigh of relief.

"God, you must be freezing!" Tegan said.

"Yeah," Jamie said, glancing at the time on the screen of her phone. "Three more hours till the next bus."

"Oh, well come on," Tegan said. "Come with us. There's a party at our hotel bar and we can't make a decision about pizza around here so let's go and get something to eat! I'm not leaving you in this toilet of an alley to get, like, abducted by organ thieves or something!"

"Ha!" Jamie laughed shortly, nervously. "Well, okay. . ." She agreed, proud of herself for sounding slightly hesitant when she wouldn't have hesitated, really, even if Tegan had suggested they start an organ trafficking ring together.

Tegan extended a hand and pulled Jamie to her feet. Even slightly hunched, she was nearly a head taller than the twins.

. . . . . . .

It had been her sixty-fifth show and she had talked to them many times before, but although she made every effort to contain herself and act like a normal human being when she spoke to them, the nerves never left her. She struggled to think of something worthwhile to say; everything out of her mouth sounded absurd and boring to her. If she could ask a witness, they would say that she never said anything actually stupid, but she herself felt incapable of saying anything memorable in those moments. Tegan was chatty and warm; Sara more reserved but still, somehow, familiar. She was a fixture at their shows. It comforted them too.

The bar was crowded. Sara said something off-hand about talking to someone called Jack, and disappeared.

"Do you want a drink?" Tegan asked Jamie magnanimously.

"Uh, something 'virgin?'" Jamie replied, and Tegan smiled and went off to the bar. Jamie sat at a high table and waited, her head swimming. Part of her disbelieved that this was all happening at all, and she thought momentarily that perhaps she had actually passed out at the bus station and was still there, unconscious, sitting on her backpack and leaning against the wall, possibly about to have her organs stolen. By then she had been awake for nearly twenty-four hours; had spent hours on a bus; hours in line at the venue like an idiot in the freezing cold; had run half-way across the city; and was now waiting for _Tegan _to return with her drink. Exhaustion mixed with adrenaline, leaving her feeling kind of strung out and jumpy. Maybe she was actually hallucinating. Did hallucinations accompany organ theft? Was she going to wake up in a bathtub full of ice cubes with a note pinned to her chest which read _Call 911?_

Tegan returned with a beer for herself and something fruity for Jamie.

"Thanks," Jamie said.

"Don't worry," Tegan said. "My beer's a virgin too."

"Oh, well that's good. . ." she said, annoyed with herself for not knowing what else to say, fearing momentarily that the beer joke may have been at her expense, but not getting the joke if it was. Tegan grinned. It was very loud in the bar; Tegan suddenly leaned in, close enough to Jamie that she could see her own reflection in Tegan's labret piercing.

"So how many shows is that?" She shouted over the din. Jamie's guts twisted a little, from the question, from the proximity, from the nearness of Tegan's lips. Tegan tucked some stray hair behind her ear and took another swallow of beer as Jamie strained to formulate an answer, even though the sensation of Tegan's breath on her cheek made her feel like she might be about to black out. _Call 911. . ._

"Umm. . . sixty-five, I think it is. . ." she said, unaccountably shy. Was it weird that she'd been to sixty-five shows? Did they think _she _was weird for having gone to that many? Even though speaking to Tegan always made her feel like her guts were liquefying, she needed to conceal that. Were they flattered that someone would follow them from city to city - country to country - or did they think she was an obsessed freak? She fiddled with the straw in her drink. Tegan smiled, her eyes crinkled.

"Wow," she said, and looked like she was about to say something else when Sara approached and spoke in Tegan's ear. Jamie didn't stare, but the intensity on Tegan's face roused her curiosity. Tegan listened, said something back that Jamie couldn't hear, and nodded before Sara gave Jamie a quick squeeze on the arm and left.

"Everything okay?" Jamie asked tentatively. Tegan finished her beer, waved a hand.

"Oh yeah. It's fine," Tegan said.

Others came and went, chatting with Tegan. Jamie and Tegan conversed off and on to each other, to the people who came and went; at one point, Sara came back and talked with Jamie for a while about virgin cocktails; disappeared again; she talked to Tegan about all the shows she'd recorded, about grad school, about past, present, and future girlfriends. Tegan was appropriately sorry to hear of Jamie's recent heartbreak; Jamie offered the same sympathy to Tegan when she heard of the latter's predilection towards straight girls. If Jamie's drink had been less virginal, she may have asked how Tegan felt about straight-looking gay girls, but her drink did nothing to help her then. Tegan had several beers, which may have been virgin but seemed to be having not-so-virginal effect anyway. Tegan brought up having dated a fan, and they discussed why this may or may not have been a good idea and Jamie laughed at Tegan's self-deprecating story over the cacophony in her brain. _ Tegan had dated a fan? _It was a sharp blow to her guts.

More than one person - Jamie lost track - brought drinks to their table, and Jamie herself tried a few different kinds of virgin drinks, and rejected a few not-so-virgin drinks, while carrying on a variety of conversations with a variety of people.

This kind of situation made Jamie feel like a chicken at a duck pond. Everyone drinking, disposing of their inhibitions, getting loud and stupid. She fought with her contempt for this behaviour, while envying the ridiculous bonding she was never a part of. She felt shy and awkward there with her virgin cocktail, chatting with an increasingly drunk Tegan. While she hated being around drunk people in general, increasingly-drunk Tegan usually also transformed into an increasingly-huggy Tegan, something that Jamie had been spectacularly lucky enough to experience before, and something she would have enjoyed even if her organs were literally, at that moment, being stolen.

Things started shifting, though. Sara was back. There were fans jostling her to get closer to Tegan, someone asking stupid questions, telling them they should play more older music, Sara barely containing her irritation, Tegan chatting politely. Ted came by with a pretty girl and introduced her to Jamie, telling the girl that Jamie was at _every single _show_. _Jamie felt self-conscious about that; was she just a groupie who didn't get to sleep with the band? Maybe Ted's girl would think that, but Jamie felt Tegan smiling at her. Johnny came by and picked up Tegan's Blackberry quickly, before Tegan's hand could retrieve it.

"Aha!" Johnny said victoriously. "Now Tegan, what am I going to see when I turn this on?" he asked her.

"Nothing!" Tegan said as Johnny clicked the phone to life, scrolled through the text messages.

"Nothing? What's this then?" Johnny asked, turning the screen so that Tegan - and Jamie - could see the inbox full of messages to and from someone named Casey. Tegan sighed, took a long drink of beer. "Don't text her! She's trouble!" Johnny said earnestly.

"I know, I know," Tegan said. Everything she said conjured song lyrics in Jamie's mind.

The Blackberry vibrated in Johnny's hand, its screen lighting up.

"It's her again. What do you want to do, Tegan?" he pressed, teasing and not teasing. Tegan sighed.

"Delete it," she said heavily. Johnny nodded, satisfied.

"Good girl," he said.

"Did Sara send you?" Tegan asked dryly. Johnny returned the phone, not responding to the question.

"There you go. All better," he said, smiling at Jamie as he left. Tegan shook her head, her grin fading as she finished her third beer.

Everything seemed to get quieter, more under-watery. Jamie watched, eyes heavy as some girl got pushy with Sara and Tegan intervened and it very nearly became tense. She leaned her head back against the wall. She saw Sara leave with a tall, skinny guy she'd never seen before. Tegan was off getting another drink, stopping to talk to two girls who wanted a picture.

The room shifted, turned. Was it getting dark? Everyone's voices got farther away. People were swirling around them, ebbing and flowing around the table Jamie shared with Tegan. Ted and Shaun were there now and Jamie passively wondered how long they'd been there. Why, Jamie wondered, were her arms so heavy? Would it be okay to just maybe put her head down for a bit?

Not then but some time later, she'd be able to piece together bits of the journey. Her left arm was slung over Tegan's shoulder; Tegan's right arm around her waist. She just wanted to lie down. Walking had never seemed like less of a possibility_. _She nearly careened into a wall, but Tegan kept her mostly vertical and guided her down the stale, tacky hotel hallway.

"Whoah, steady there, Jamie!" Tegan said with a laugh, quickly grasping Jamie around the waist with both arms as they both stumbled into the wall. Jamie was taller than Tegan the way that trees are taller than shrubs. "You're heavier than you look!" Tegan laughed. "Okay, right foot. . ."

"Sorry," Jamie said, blearily. She didn't drink, and she didn't use drugs. This feeling was not at all familiar.

"Nah, you're fine, you're fine. . ." Tegan said encouragingly. "Just a few more steps. . ."

Again, it all got dark.

. . . . . .

The sound of soft voices seeped into her dream, and then drew her, slowly, up to the surface. A foreign bed, a musty hotel comforter. Her head, throbbing. She wouldn't remember how she got to the room for a few more days. She would never know who had put the drug in her drink, but she wondered, later, whether it had been intended for Tegan.

Over to her right, on the other queen-sized bed, voices, and movement. In the murky light, she could make out dark shapes superimposed over the slightly less dark background. There was slow movement, rustling of sheets, the soft, wet sound of lips. Who?

It was all fuzzy. Her eyes, her mind, still under water. She blinked, strained to focus. There were two people in the bed next to hers, and they were only black shapes, but even with the lingering traces of the drug in her body, she knew what was happening.

"_Tegan,"_ she heard a low voice gasp; a female voice. _Tegan? Was she in a hotel room with Tegan? _Fragments of the last few hours came back to her, slowly, hazily. She mentally checked to make sure all of her organs were still accounted for.

Low murmurs; the bed creaked slightly; the shapes rolled, shifted. The one on the bottom was then on top. Jamie held completely still, her eyes adjusting to the dark. She could make out the shape of one female body pressing hips down against the other, legs tangled; the shape of faces, close together. The one on top - who was it? - ran fingers back through the hair of the other, and then mouths found each other. She heard Tegan's voice, certainly Tegan's voice, moan softly into the mouth of the other, and without separating or breaking this slow, deep kiss, the figure on top shifted her hips, lowered a hand, pushed the other's knee to the side. Jamie couldn't see what the hand was doing then, but she could well imagine in spite of her brain haze because after the adjustment down below, the one on top slid up slightly and then smoothly pressed her pelvis into the other's, eliciting a muffled moan from the one below.

"_Oooh,"_ Jamie heard Tegan's voice, and then a very soft _sssshhhhh _from the other, the top, who was slowly, rhythmically sliding her hips up, in, back, down. . .

Jamie heard the two of them obviously trying to stifle their raspy, hitching breaths, but the sounds intensified nevertheless as the movement of the dark and shifting shapes intensified. Low gasps escaped from both of them and when the top started thrusting faster, a moan escaped Tegan before she could stop it and the one on top softly hissed again, _sssshhhhh, _but didn't slow down. Jamie's heart was in her throat and the warmth was spreading in her, from her stomach upward, to her cheeks; from her stomach, downward. The two shifting figures in the bed, Tegan and someone, reached a point where they lost track of themselves; attempts to remain quiet came closer to failing, and while the sounds were still muffled and low, to Jamie there was no mistaking the shuddering, gasping breaths of the two as the one on the bottom came, and then, one, two slow thrusts later, the one on top followed, convulsing. They gripped each other, the figure on top dropped her head, kissing the shoulder and neck of the one below, who lay back, catching her breath. When the top started to withdraw, there was a soft protest from the one below, who wrapped her legs around the other's waist, trapping her. Jamie lay there, frozen, blood whooshing in her ears as she listened to their breathing gradually slow to normal amid the soft sounds of their slow kisses.

"_Oh," _she heard a soft voice again. A very, very soft laugh.

_"I love you." _Tegan's voice, low and spent but with a trace of sadness. And the soft, whispered reply, after a slight pause, unmistakably Sara's voice:

_"I know." _There was another long kiss, and then the one on top extricated herself from the encircling limbs of the other. Jamie didn't move as the top stood next to the bed, fiddled with something at her waist. There was a jingling thud as something hit the floor and, wordlessly, the standing figure dressed, quickly.

"_Sara. . ." _ said a very quiet voice from the bed. There was no reply. The one Jamie now knew was Sara opened the door and was very briefly outlined in the golden light of the hallway, and Jamie was easily able to confirm, to her own clouded disbelief, that the silhouette was indeed Sara's before the door swung closed with a faint click. There was no movement from Tegan for a moment, and then Jamie saw her shadowy figure slide over and reach down to the floor between them, retrieving the thing that Sara had dropped on the floor. Tegan stood, furtively grasping for her underwear, a t-shirt, and quickly pulling them on before climbing silently back into bed. There was a moment of silence and then muffled noises that sounded like Tegan crying, very quietly, with something pressed to her face to muffle the sounds.

Frozen, Jamie stopped her own surprised gasp, pressing her lips together. Sara's voice. And Tegan's. . .

Jamie was awake, wide-eyed, long after Tegan's whimpering breaths subsided.

. . . . . . . . . . .

For an AWESOME illustration of the first chapter, go to drawnquincest dot tumblr dot com backslash post/48753581093/christ-this-took-all-day-i-swear- drawing-girls


	2. I Can't Help Myself Details Fill My Mind

**Chapter 2: I Can't Help Myself, Details Fill My Mind**

Jamie was not a morning person. The sun was quite high in the sky when a beep and a mechanical _whirring _sound roused her. She opened one eye, reluctantly, focusing on the hazy shape of Tegan sitting cross-legged on the bed across from hers, Jamie's camera in her hands. Jamie rubbed her eyes and looked Tegan over. She was fully dressed, hair damp from the shower that Jamie could smell on the air. Her eyes were puffy, tired. Her eyes were somewhat puffy generally, her left eyelid drooping down lower than her right, but that morning, she looked like someone who had fallen asleep crying.

_Someone who had fallen asleep crying after. . . after what? _Jamie thought, still doubting her own recollection of it all.

Tegan watched the screen of Jamie's camera, the video that Jamie had recorded of their show the night before. Jamie stretched her long limbs quietly, mind reeling back to what she had heard and half-seen the night before. Would Tegan realize she knew? Would she just have to pretend she didn't? It all came back, flotsam on the surf of her drugged mind. She recalled Tegan's low, plaintive voice and Sara's silent departure. Tegan's tears in the darkness. Jamie felt a tightness in her chest accompanying the surreality of it all.

"Oh," Tegan said, looking up. Her voice was forced brightness with such heaviness underneath. _Don't pretend, _Jamie wanted to say. "I hope you don't mind. . . I was watching your video." Jamie rubbed her eyes, shook her head.

"Of course I don't mind. It's you. The video," she stumbled a little over the words.

"It's great. It's great footage," Tegan said. "And you just use this little point-and-shoot?"

Jamie nodded, smiling.

"Well, it's great."

"Thanks," she said. "But it's great because. . . you are," she said, lightly, she hoped, her face warming. Tegan's reddish eyes met hers with a smile, before the recollection struck her.

"Hey, are you okay? Shit, sorry, I almost forgot to ask. Someone. . . drugged you?" Tegan asked, rubbing her hung-over temples.

"Uh, yeah, my head is feeling a bit rough. . ."

"I can't believe that happened. . . who would do that?" Jamie thought about that.

"Maybe it was meant for you," she suggested. Tegan nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, there _are _some freaky people out there. But you're okay now? Did you sleep okay?" Jamie's heart leapt up into her throat at the question.

"Uh, yeah. . . I don't even remember going to bed. . ." she said, somewhat evasively. Because she knew what to look for, Jamie saw Tegan's shoulders drop, a nearly imperceptible sigh. Jamie swallowed and averted her eyes.

"Um, hey, I'll be right back. . ." Tegan said incongruously, and left the room quickly.

Jamie showered and dressed and was tying back her miles and miles of hair when Tegan came back in, carrying a larger, production-quality video camera in her hands. She really did look miserable, and Jamie wanted to ask her if everything was okay because that's what one did when someone looked miserable, but she thought she knew why Tegan looked miserable and knew that Tegan wouldn't be able to say.

"Have you ever used one of these?" Tegan asked Jamie, handing the camera to her. Jamie briefly met Tegan's eyes. They looked pained, and a little furtive, and she turned away to seek out something in her suitcase.

"Um," Jamie paused, looking the camera over. "I've played around with this kind of camera a little," she said, when strictly speaking what she should have said was _no._

_ "_Do you think you could figure it out?" Tegan asked her, not looking up from the half-hearted packing of her suitcase. Jamie thought for a second.

"Sure," she said. "I suppose I could. . ."

Tegan crammed the last pair of jeans into the suitcase, flipped the lid shut and leaned on it. She'd done such a haphazard job of packing that the lid refused to close, an over-stuffed mouth.

"Fuck," Tegan muttered, out-of-sorts. Jamie set the camera down and helped Tegan close the suitcase, standing next to Tegan and pressing the lid down in unison. Jamie held it down as Tegan clicked the latch.

"Thanks," Tegan said, sitting down on the bed. "So, what would you think of joining us on tour? Record the shows, some backstage footage, stuff like that. For our documentary."

For a moment, Jamie partially lost the feeling in her legs. Was she standing? Sitting? Paraplegic? Had Tegan just offered her a job? Had those organ thieves returned and removed the whole lower half of her body just to save time?

"On tour?" she heard her voice say, from a distance.

"Yep, on the bus, with me and Sara and all the smelly boys," Tegan said with a sad, tired smile. "Look, we've watched tons of your videos. They're the only videos online that are worth watching."

_Wow._

"Uh. . . well, of course. . . yeah, of course I would do that," she said, stunned. "Um. . . when?" she asked, as a series of obstacles reeled through her mind. School, her disapproving family. . . she dismissed these concerns almost as quickly.

"Well I guess you'd need to go home and get your stuff for the road. We have a show tonight in Baltimore and then in DC on Wednesday and-"

"Yeah, I have tickets to those ones already," Jamie said, slightly sheepish. Tegan grinned.

"Well, see you there, then. I'll put you on the list and you can get backstage before the show. Okay?" She asked, dragging her suitcase off the edge of the bed and onto the floor with a grunt. The thing was big enough for Tegan to curl up inside and sleep.

"Okay," Jamie replied, disbelief washing over her. Tegan had transformed her life in fewer words than it might take her to order a coffee in Starbucks. Tegan wheeled her suitcase to the door of the hotel and opened it, pausing for a second to look back over her shoulder.

"You coming?" she asked, snapping Jamie out of her stupor.

"Uh, I just need a second to get my stuff together," Jamie said. "Meet you downstairs?"

"'Okay," Tegan said, shutting the door behind her.

. . . . . . .

Jamie was another ten minutes gathering her things and trying to sort out her tangled thoughts. The raised voices preceded her arrival in the lobby.

"If you want to fuck around with someone else's girlfriend," Tegan nearly shouted at Sara, "you should maybe pick someone more reliable, rather than some slut-bag who will just tell everyone she knows. Then the news will never get back to me! Then your sneaky, fucking backstabbing-"

"Did you just call your girlfriend a slut-bag?" Sara asked back, stony-faced.

"She's not my girlfriend," Tegan retorted. Sara ignored the inconsistency.

"Then why are you so upset?" Sara asked, irritated, flippant. Tegan stared back at her, red-faced. Jamie froze, met Ted's eyes, and Ted mouthed the words _oh fuck _before pushing the glass doors open and stepping outside. The way she was positioned, Jamie would need to walk between them to get out the door, and the tension between them, she thought, might entangle her like a net.

"How can you ask me that?" Tegan asked. From where Jamie stood, Sara looked like she was struggling to maintain her aloof, indifferent expression. There was nothing aloof or indifferent about Tegan; her face was flushed, her eyes glossy.

"Don't you ever just want to fuck someone," Sara shot back, exasperated, "without it being a. . . "

"Being a _what?_" Tegan prompted, daring her.

"Without it being a fucking _expedition!_" Sara said finally, and they stared at each other. Jamie furtively glanced from one to the other, and then out the big windows to where the three boys stood together, glancing back now and then, concerned but weary. She thought for a moment that she should perhaps just turn around and go back up the stairs. They didn't seem to notice she was there. Somehow, her feet were bolted to the floor.  
After an unnaturally long pause, Sara tired of the staring contest and just sighed, grabbing her suitcase and starting for the door.

"I'll forgive you, Sara," Tegan shouted at her, voice strained and bitter. "All you have to do is be _sorry!_"

Sara walked out without a reply, without looking back. Tegan watched her, for a moment, swore, and kicked her suitcase.

"Fuck! Fuck you, Sara," she muttered, and, seeing Jamie there, turned even redder, humiliation twisting her face as she struggled with her big suitcase and her backpack. Jamie wordlessly took the strap of Tegan's backpack and slung it over her shoulder, held the door and looked back at her.

"Thanks," Tegan said. "I'm sorry about that. . ."

Jamie shook her head, gave Tegan an uncomfortable smile. "Don't be sorry," she said simply. Tegan held Jamie's eye for a moment.

"Good first day on the new job?" she joked, but her voice was heavy as she followed Jamie out the door.

"The best."


	3. They Roll Their Eyes, Pull Our Elbows

**Chapter 3: They Roll Their Eyes, Pull Our Elbows **

Normally, Jamie would have slept through most of the four-hour journey back to DC, but not this time. Her mind was strained, beyond confusion, beyond exhaustion.

Tegan had offered her a job filming their shows. Tegan, who she had heard and half-seen. . . in bed. . . with Sara. _With Sara!_

The shock of this was still fresh, as was the multi-layered conflict in Jamie's mind.

Tegan was hot. Sara was hot. Sex was hot. Therefore, the thought of them together was. . . hot. But it shouldn't be hot, it couldn't be. They were _sisters_. That was incest; immoral; an actual _crime_. A crime she shouldn't have witnessed at all. . . but which had made all the blood rush to her cheeks and elsewhere.

But then, why? She thought about that over and over on the long bus ride, _why_ is it immoral? Can what two adults choose to do with their own bodies in private be immoral? And the standard that had always made sense to her, when she had thought about gay relationships in the first place, was "consenting adults," and they _were_ adults, and weren't they. . . consenting? So what was the difference? And it wasn't like anyone was being _hurt _by the whole thing. . . Not to mention the whole argument that you can't help who you fall in love with. . . All of the arguments that had made so much sense in the context of being gay suddenly failed her, and her mind swirled in a hopeless, uneasy muddle. She recoiled from it because she'd been conditioned that way and she knew it, and she understood that social mores were arbitrary but she felt it nonetheless. She was shocked; she was aroused; she was ashamed for being aroused; she was shocked at herself. And she was curious. And she was going on tour with them.

. . . . . .

Kim leaned against the frame of Jamie's bedroom door and watched, wordlessly, while Jamie packed. Jamie grabbed a bunch of t-shirts from her closet and lay them on top of her suitcase, looking skeptical. "They're all Tegan and Sara shirts," she mused.

"Is that a problem?" Kim huffed, clearly bitter. Jamie shrugged.

"Guess not," she said. "Kind of like a. . . uniform." Jamie just busied herself with packing because she could see Kim there, out of the corner of her eye, watching her expectantly, but if Kim wanted to say something she was just going to have to say it.

"Unbelievable," Kim said heavily, incredulously, shaking her head. Jamie knew Kim must be seething with jealousy, and Jamie would have felt even more so had the roles been reversed, but Jamie also felt like Kim wanted her to apologize and she wasn't going to do it.

"I know," Jamie said, managing to sound a bit sympathetic.

"They want you to record shows and stuff? Backstage stuff?"

"For a documentary, yeah," Jamie said, stuffing her phone charger into the outside pocket of her suitcase and zipping it shut. She heard, felt, Kim sigh; the whole building may have shifted under the weight of that sigh.

"So. . . you're going to the venue and then. . . backstage?" Kim asked slowly, her eyes saying _traitor. _ Jamie raised her eyebrows, gave a little shrug again.

"Oh! I almost forgot," Jamie said suddenly, crouching in front of a shelf of CDs and flipping through, pulling one out. "That CD you wanted. . ." she said, handing the CD to Kim who looked at it, looked at Jamie, looked at the CD again.

"Thanks," she said, with all the verve of someone who has just been handed a plastic tray of hospital food.

. . . . . . .

The first few shows as part of the Tegan and Sara crew was a complete blur for Jamie. The filming of the actual show itself was not so much different from the others she'd filmed, except that she didn't have to camp out in front of the club for hours in order to get her prime spot up at the front. That, and in addition to worrying about whether her recording was good enough for the fans, she worried now over whether the filming was good enough for Tegan and Sara themselves. The rest of the evening was an overwhelming sensory overload. The show was good and the banter was funny, as it generally was, although the jokes had taken on new meaning for Jamie, as had the song lyrics. So many songs sounded then so obviously written for each other. When they played _I Won't Be Left, _Jamie had to swallow a lump in her throat.

_I know you're scared even though you say that you're not_. . .

The shock she was still feeling over the whole scandal of Tegan and Sara was mixing and swirling with moments, moments on stage, moments backstage, and her hazy recollection of those soft words she'd overheard in the dark:

_I love you._

_ I know._

Tegan, Sara, the boys in the band, and the crew were all enthusiastic about having her there and all did what they could to help her get adjusted to life on the bus and to her new role. The filming itself, after initial difficulties with the camera, was easy and natural; knowing when to turn the camera off was trickier.

"Hey, so how's it all going so far?" Ted asked her, backstage after the third show. He sat down on a sofa, biting into a green apple.

"Great," she said, hesitating slightly over the drastic oversimplification of her own answer. "You guys sounded really excellent tonight."

"Except for Sara, who sang off-key all through 'Burn Your Life Down,'" Tegan quipped.

"Oh, because it's totally normal and professional to forget the lyrics to like, songs _you wrote, _and we've played like, a hundred thousand times," Sara said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. Jamie felt a little wave of relief. They were teasing each other. That was good. The fight about the girl was intense but seemed to have blown over quickly. There had been a moment on stage a few nights ago where Sara, out of the blue, in the middle of Tegan's anecdote, stepped up to the microphone and said _I hate you_ to Tegan. Tegan was so taken aback, she was not able to finish her story. They just played the next song. Jamie felt a twinge in her chest remembering Tegan's response. _What? You hate me? I was just telling this story and now apparently Sara hates me. . . _ Tegan didn't even fight back. She blinked, her brow creased, like someone had slapped her.

"Gaaaawd, I stink," Tegan said languidly, tossing her sneakers under the coffee table and flopping down next to Ted.

"You're telling me," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Are you getting all this, Jamie?"

"Oh yeah," she said, smiling. When _did _one turn the camera off?

"Ted, you're not really in a position to talk," Sara started with a laugh. "Your sneakers smell the way I imagine a zombie's sneakers would smell." The boys were laughing. "Or like, no, but not even like a regular zombie's shoes but like shoes that belong to a zombie who has been like, he was, kind of like ostracized by the other zombies for having smelly feet. . ."

Jamie laughed, trying to keep the camera steady, to keep her voice out of the footage.

"That's unfair," Shaun said. "Teasing Ted about having smelly feet is like. . . if we teased you two about being gay."

"What?" they both said, the same time, in the same incredulous tone. It was such a twin moment that it gave Jamie a shiver.

"Well, do you think having smelly feet is a _choice?"_ Shaun asked, and the laughter continued. He turned to Jamie, on the other side of the room with her camera trained on them. "What do you think, Jamie? Are smelly feet a choice?" Jamie shook her head with a chuckle.

"Um, no," she said.

"Is being gay a choice?" he asked. Involuntarily, her eyes flicked over to Tegan, who was in the process of stretching her arms above her head, on the sofa, her green and blue plaid shirt lifting enough to reveal a slice of her belly. Jamie looked away quickly.

"No," Jamie said simply. No, it wasn't. Not any more than it was a choice to fall in love with an unattainable rock star. _Or, possibly, your own twin sister._

"Well, there you go then. Give Ted and his zombie sneakers a break," Shaun said.

"Thanks, Shaun," Ted laughed. "That was really touching."

. . . . . . .

Life on the bus was and wasn't what Jamie had expected. The proximity and togetherness was intense and, because Tegan was there, it was intoxicating. Instead of just the rush of adrenaline she experienced from seeing her on stage, she was now spending nearly every waking hour with it pumping through her veins, and it was exhausting. She kept telling herself she'd get used to it and maybe she was, a little, but it was still overwhelming.

There were rules on the bus, to keep everyone sane and alive. Everyone was required to keep their possessions in their own bunk and nowhere else; no overnight guests; shower time limits were strictly observed. Jamie adapted to those rules quickly, although her sleeping habits were not consistent with touring. She found herself sleepy, grumpy, and several of the other dwarfs most mornings. It did nothing to help Jamie's frayed nerves that half of the time Tegan and Sara still seemed startled by her presence, though they generally recovered quickly. The other half, they seemed to think nothing of walking around in front of her in their pajamas, causing her to hurriedly avert her eyes every time she caught a glimpse of their pale legs from under their pajama shorts.

Life on the bus also involved sleeping in a bunk, directly under Tegan's. The first seven nights it took her ages to fall asleep because a) her bed was moving and b) Tegan was a foot above her face. At night she half-expected to hear Sara climb into Tegan's bunk, right above hers, but that had yet to happen. Jamie was starting to wonder if it had all been a hallucination, a manifestation of the unknown drug on her virgin brain. And the fight in the lobby the next morning? Well, it was shocking enough that Sara had slept with Tegan's girlfriend and that's all it was. A fight between sisters, albeit a fairly twisted one. Jamie thought of that, of the shocking betrayal that it represented. Had Tegan forgiven Sara for that? How could she? _Was_ Sara sorry? Did their twin-ness make this more of a blow, or. . . somehow. . . less of one? She didn't want to believe that Sara would do something that egregious, and thought there must be more to the story that she didn't know. She couldn't really imagine what circumstances could possibly exist to allow Tegan to let it go so quickly.

By the eighth night of the tour, she'd almost convinced herself all over again that she'd imagined everything. They were in a small town in rural Ontario, and after the show Ted and Johnny went to a midnight movie while Shaun went to meet an old university friend. Tegan and Sara had disappeared. Jamie got some takeout and returned to the bus. She ate and chatted with a couple of members of the crew before they went off to their bunks, but her sleep cycle was so messed up that even though she was exhausted, she didn't think she could sleep. Thinking it might be a good chance to get some atmospheric rural nighttime footage, she grabbed her camera and her jacket and went out for a walk.

The night was bright and still. Her footfalls crunched on gravel on the soft shoulder of the road as she set out in the direction of an old farmhouse in the distance. She stopped, turned on the camera, just to see if she could get anything usable. It was a good camera; she thought she might be able to capture something worthwhile. The farmhouse in the distance intrigued her; she hurried her pace.

The farmhouse itself looked abandoned, and the large red barn beyond was downright derelict. It was eerily beautiful there in the silver light of the full moon. Jamie got some good shots of it, and then jumped over a shallow ditch and started across the field towards the barn.

She circled around the back of it, camera running, the tall grass soaking the cuffs of her jeans. It was cold, but she was liking the shots she was getting. They were creepy. She shivered a little to be out there alone, but she wanted more footage. There was a ladder at the back of the barn and when she craned her neck up, she saw the dark opening above. After a moment's hesitation, she started her climb. It was a slow process; because the camera was too big for her pocket, she had to set it a step above her and then climb up, move the camera, climb up. The ladder itself had started rotting in places, and Jamie idly wondered who would find her if she fell to her death.

At last, she reached the opening high above the field, with only one small splinter in her palm. She placed the camera inside on the floor and hoisted herself inside. It was darker inside, and she gave herself a moment to adjust to the light. Hay was heaped up all around her, and she could see ahead where the loft ended. She cautiously crawled forward a few feet and then froze.

_Voices._

Heart in her throat, she hesitated. Should she rush back to the ladder, climb down and run her ass off back to the bus? She was a fast runner. She could probably outrun the organ thieves or whoever they were. But something compelled her on, and she inched forward, very quietly, camera in hand. She lay down on her stomach and peered over the edge, camera ready, and she saw them.

The large doors of the barn were open, and the bright full moonlight streamed in, illuminating them where they stood. Now, laying still, hardly breathing, she could make out their words.

"You know that's not what I meant," Sara said. "I mean, what's the point if you're going to assume that-"

Tegan stepped closer to Sara slowly, took Sara's face between both hands. Sara sighed, hands on Tegan's wrists, pulling away half-heartedly. "Tegan," she said, looking down, unable to finish. Sara stepped back a little, pulled away, but Tegan caught her wrist and wouldn't release it.

"Wait," Tegan said, plaintively, and Sara pushed her back with her other hand.

"No, it's. . . _fuck, _this is sick!" Sara said, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. "It's fucking _sick_ and so are we. . ." Tegan recovered her balance from the push and took a tentative step forward as her sister's voice filled with tears. "No, what are you doing, no. . ." Sara moaned, wearily, heavily, putting her arm up in front of her face as if to shield herself from Tegan. Tegan stopped with a hurt shrug.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Why?" Sara asked. Tegan shrugged again. Sara wiped her eyes with her sleeve, struggling, hesitating, and then suddenly, quickly, made three quick steps and grasped Tegan's face, as Tegan had done to her moments before, but without the tentative tenderness. She kissed Tegan intensely, and Tegan staggered back one or two steps before catching her heel on a loose board and stumbling back into a mound of hay. Jamie gasped with them, involuntarily, and put her own jacket sleeve over her mouth as she watched, transfixed.

Sara followed Tegan down quickly, first kneeling, and then pulling her body on top of Tegan in the hay. Sara's hands in Tegan's hair, Tegan's mouth on Sara's neck. Sara pulled Tegan's head back and kissed her mouth again, and Jamie was conscious of what was happening to her body as Sara's tongue made its way over Tegan's lips and into her mouth. Jamie could hardly hear the buzz of the camera over the pounding of her heart in her ears.

The camera! Jamie quickly turned off the camera and set it aside, eyes locked on the two figures below, whose eyes were locked on each other. She watched them, guilty for watching them, unable to look away.

_What the fuck am I doing? _she asked herself, pressing even flatter into the boards beneath her. _This is wrong. It's wrong I'm seeing this. It's wrong that it's happening. It's wrong that I'm watching them and they don't know it. It's wrong that it's making me hot, all over._ She thought all of this but didn't move as they kissed, urgently, repeatedly, their hands in each other's hair, gripping each other's sides, hips, Sara's pelvis beginning to rhythmically press into Tegan's, as Jamie had seen her do through the shadows that first night in the hotel room. Small pleading noises began to escape Tegan's mouth in response, her hips involuntarily lifting to meet Sara's, and after several minutes Sara roughly yanked the button fly of Tegan's pants open with one hand, the other propping herself up above her sister. Breathing heavily, Tegan pulled Sara's shirt free of her jeans, her hands seeking out the softness of her sister's skin. Jamie's stomach flipped at the sound Tegan made as Sara's hand slipped under the waistband of her underwear. Tegan's moans were muffled, swallowed by Sara's mouth on hers and some of the anger seemed to dissolve from their kisses as Sara's fingers slid down inside Tegan's jeans and disappeared.

_Jesus, _she whispered into the sleeve of her jacket. Tegan lifted her hips a little and slid her pants down several inches, and Jamie clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms at the sight of so much of Tegan's skin - her hips, her thighs, pale in the moonlinght, and the place where Sara's hand moved, fingers pressing deep inside, sliding in, sliding out, sliding in, curling forward. Sara's hand continued its movement against Tegan, but now her eyes were on Tegan's, their faces close. Jamie sucked in a sharp breath when she saw Sara, one hand still pressing into Tegan, raise her other hand to Tegan's cheek and turn Tegan's face to hers.

"_Look at me," _Sara growled, and Tegan did, her eyes wide on her sister's as Sara's hand pressed into her over and over, the intensity of the command causing her to inhale sharply and push her hips more desperately into Sara's hand, the hay sliding beneath her as Sara's free hand pushed Tegan's sweaty hair back from her forehead. Moments passed, Tegan's ragged breathing and agonized whimpers echoing through the night, and Jamie didn't know, couldn't judge how long it was before Tegan could no longer look in her sister's eyes and instead wrapped her arms around Sara's back, squeezing her, eyes shut tight, mouth open in a silent cry, her neck strained, and Jamie almost cried out too as Tegan half-cried, half-moaned into Sara's neck. Sara's hand kept working until Tegan gripped her sister's wrist desperately, pulling it into her, cries caught in her throat, shaking again until her body went limp.

Sara lowered herself down next to Tegan and slowly withdrew her fingers. Tegan sighed as Sara's fingers left her and moved up to her face again, through her hair. Sara kissed her again, much more tenderly this time, slowly, and, as Tegan's hand made its way to the button on Sara's jeans, Sara took hold of Tegan's hand, stopped her.

"No," Sara said.

"Sara. . ." Tegan protested softly. Sara shook her head, kissed Tegan's fingers, stood up, brushed the hay off of her knees, and walked quickly and wordlessly out the open door.

Tegan lay there gasping, spent, her jeans around her thighs.

"Sara," she said, in a tone that expected no answer. She yanked her pants back up and sat in the hay, catching her breath. Jamie watched as she pulled her knees up and pressed her face down into them, hugging them into her chest.

_Holy Jesus fucking Christ. _Jamie couldn't see Tegan's face, couldn't even come close to knowing what she was feeling exactly, but she herself had bitten her tongue so hard when Tegan came that she tasted blood. She lay there, watching Tegan, heat pulsing all through her, until Tegan stood, wiped her face with the front of her shirt, and walked out into the moonlight.


	4. I Forget, Our Love Was So Hopeful

**Chapter 4: I Forget, Our Love Was So Hopeful **

She walked back in a daze, clutching the camera. She was halfway back to the bus when she remembered that the camera had still been running when she saw them. Jamie stopped on the side of the dark road and switched the camera on, cueing up to the moment when she had tipped the camera over the edge of the loft and caught them there in the glowing patch of moonlight.

On the playback, she could hear a murmur of voices but no words, other than Sara's bitter _what's the point._ She couldn't hear but everything was in focus when Sara ran to Tegan, kissed her intensely, and they both toppled over into the hay. The clip ended and Jamie stood there, eyes on the screen, stunned again. After a moment, she shook her head. _What are you doing? _she asked herself, and pressed delete. The file moved to the trash can and Jamie continued her quick walk back to the bus, the sky already changing from black to deep blue.

. . . . . .

She dreamed about climbing a broken, rotting ladder, much higher than any ladder in the real world. She climbed miles and miles into the dark sky before the thing crumbled and she fell and fell and fell and woke, with a start, rubbing the sore spot on her palm where the splinter had gone in. It was bright; she opened her eyes, noted the red, puffy spot on her hand. What time was it? She looked at the screen of her phone. It was nearly noon. From further up the bus, she heard the clink of a spoon in a cup. She swung her legs over and got out of her bunk, and there was Sara, in the dining area. Their eyes met.

"Morning," Sara said to her groggily.

"Barely," Jamie replied, uneasy, trying to smile, hoping her eyes didn't reflect everything she'd seen the night before. Sara looked like she'd slept in the deserted field beyond the farmhouse; her hair unkempt, her eyes puffy and dark.

"Have you seen Tegan?" Sara asked suddenly, blowing on her hot coffee a little.

_Yes, but not as much of her as you have, _Jamie thought, involuntarily. "Uh, not since last night," she said, vaguely. "Didn't she come back?" Jamie asked, when what she thought was _didn't she come back after you fucked her and left her in the hayloft with her pants down?_

Jamie saw a brief frown flicker across Sara's face, a barely perceptible shake of the head. Jamie looked down at her hand, picking absently at the end of the splinter, and winced.

"Is something wrong with your hand?" Sara asked with a yawn, smoothing her messy hair back from her forehead.

"Oh. . ." Jamie started, aware then that she'd been fiddling with the sore spot on her palm again. "I have a splinter, I think. . ."

"From what?" Sara asked. Jamie's mind went blank for a moment. _Why is it_, she thought, _that the more you need a convincing lie, the less you're able to produce one?_

"Not sure. It's all red and puffy, though," she said, deflecting, turning her palm out to show Sara.

"Ouch. You should get Tegan to help you with that. She's good with her hands," Sara said, drinking her coffee. Jamie bit her lip.

She was halfway through her pineapple yogurt, sitting at the booth with Sara, when Tegan came in. The icy air blew in with her.  
"Hey," she greeted them, arms folded across her chest, shivering.

"Where've you been?" Sara asked.

"Just out for a walk," Tegan said casually. "Mmmmm, pineapple," Tegan unbuttoned her jacket and sat next to Jamie in the booth.

"Jamie has a splinter in her hand," Sara said, getting up to refill her coffee cup. Jamie's face flushed as Tegan casually took hold of her wrist and pulled Jamie's hand up to her face. She hoped that neither of them could see the warmth that spread through her at Tegan's touch. All of the drama between Tegan and Sara themselves had almost made her forget about how she had felt about Tegan in the first place.

_Almost_.

"Oh, yeah, it's all inflamed or something," she said. "I can get it. . ." Tegan got up, opening a drawer next to the fridge and rummaging around.

"Did you even come back last night?" Sara asked. "I didn't hear you."

"Yeah," Tegan said lightly, extracting a small sewing kit from the drawer and returning to her seat next to Jamie.

"When?" Sara asked, leaning against the wall, hands wrapped around her hot coffee cup. Tegan took a needle out of the sewing kit, glancing up quickly at Sara.

"Late. Why do you care?" she asked, her voice forced and chipper. She took hold of Jamie's hand again, pulled it over in front of her and turned it, palm up. Jamie felt ridiculous but held her breath as Tegan pressed her fingers down, flat, and prodded the swollen red area gently with the tip of the needle.

"I don't," Sara said, fake-indifferent, with a shrug.

_Why do they talk like this in front of me? Don't they realize how obvious they are? _Jamie thought, and then wondered herself whether it would be obvious to her if she hadn't seen what she had seen.

"Well, good, then," Tegan said. "Don't worry, I'm a doctor," she said wryly to Jamie, who snorted and looked away as Tegan carefully plucked at the place where the splinter had pierced her skin. Tegan's hands were still a little cold from the outdoors, but Jamie was warm again, like she'd been in the hayloft. Well, not quite that warm.

Tegan was squeezing her fingers, stretching her palm flat so that the skin would be taut and easier to work with, and Jamie was asking herself how it was possible that splinter-removal surgery could be an erotic experience when Tegan gave a victorious cry.

"Aha! Got it," she said, holding the needle in front of her eyes with a surprisingly large wooden splinter stuck to its tip.

"Wow," Jamie said in surprise, hoping her face wasn't as red as it felt. "You really _are_ good with your hands. . ."

Jamie's lip was experiencing a lot of biting lately. She nearly kicked herself under the table. Tegan snickered.

"That's what she said," Sara said lightly, finishing her coffee. Jamie, relieved at the joke and amused by the truth of it, pressed against the spot on her hand that had been penetrated by Tegan's needle, still feeling Tegan's cool fingers on hers.

"Thanks," she said.

"No problem. I love prying things out of people." Jamie, eyes fixed on her yogurt again, couldn't miss the pointed look that passed between the twins. Is this what they did then, she wondered, did they tease, harass, and badger each other all day and on stage and then have angst-ridden encounters at night? Or, maybe, she had hallucinated the whole past week and was either still at the Port Authority Bus Terminal, asleep on the sticky pavement, or her heart had been removed by the organ thieves and she was on some kind of machine which was keeping her alive. And her brain was playing tricks on her. Or maybe her brain had been stolen and replaced with someone else's brain, the brain of someone who was capable of imagining such things.

. . . . . .

The next few weeks of touring and shows passed, and things became sort of normal for Jamie. That is, as normal as things could be under the circumstances. Every evening she was recording shows, recording footage backstage. Every night, she was sleeping under Tegan.

There were more moments, too, that derailed Jamie's attempts to tell herself that she'd dreamt it all: moments half-seen, interrupted. One night, after a show, Jamie had gone out behind the venue, carrying one last case to add to a trailer, when she'd come upon them, standing together in the trailer. Jamie's eyes and brain read the scene faster than she could respond. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought what she saw was the start of a struggle; Tegan took hold of the collar of Sara's jacket, clenching it, pulling her closer; Sara grasped her sister's wrist in one hand, her shoulder in the other. Was she pushing her away? Pulling her closer? Both? This time, it was not only Tegan who was flushed.

"Oh, shit," Jamie muttered when Sara turned to her, startled. Jamie stepped back, embarrassed. "Sorry –"

Sara jumped down from the trailer, hurried past Jamie and dashed back into the venue without a word. Tegan looked at Jamie quickly and then looked away even quicker.

"Fuck," she breathed, shiny eyes down as she passed Jamie, more slowly than Sara had. "Sorry. . ." she said, pausing awkwardly for a moment by Jamie, not looking up. "We. . ."

Jamie held her breath. _You don't have to say it. Don't say it._

"We're just . . having some issues, lately," Tegan said, her voice trembling slightly. Jamie's hands clenched against the urge to touch Tegan, to hug her, her downcast face, her drooping shoulders. The moment passed, and Tegan too jumped down from the truck and hurried off, leaving Jamie standing in the trailer, with the case in her hand, no longer sure what she'd come for.

The shows were mostly going well. There was more tension between them than she remembered seeing when she was simply a fan, but then she wondered if it had always been there. Their jokes and banter contained many more double-entendres, but she wondered too if they always had. On many occasions, Tegan would glance at her just before, or just after, saying something she knew she shouldn't say. It was something many fans had commented on when Jamie posted her videos on YouTube. _Oh my God! Tegan looked right at you! _It had happened time and time again with Jamie there, up front, like a buoy in the sea of faces. Now it was becoming more pronounced, more pointed.

She stood at the front of the crowd at one such show. The crowd was particularly vocal. Once or twice Sara told them to settle down; two or three times, Tegan told them to let it all out. Jamie wondered which option was best.

That night, they played "Give Chase" and when Tegan wailed at the end, her eyes closed tightly, veins standing out on her neck, Jamie recollected seeing Tegan's face look very much like that under very different circumstances, and her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. _All the fans around me, if they only knew. What on earth would they think? _Jamie still couldn't clearly identify what, exactly, she thought. Moments later, Tegan surprised Jamie by introducing her to the crowd as the newest member of their crew.

"Thank you," she said, fiddling with her guitar. "You guys are being so great tonight so I want to share something special with you," Tegan went on, and Jamie caught Sara glancing quickly over at Tegan as she tuned her Gretsch. "You may already know her. . . she's stood up at the front of most of the shows we've done in the past few years. . ." People were hooting. Jamie kept the camera on Tegan as, from the stage, Tegan looked down at her. "She's followed us to like thirty-seven different countries and finally Sara and I got worried that she would like lose her job or starve to death or get kicked out of school because she spends all her money and time recording our shows and putting up these awesome videos for you to watch and. . ." Jamie heard someone shout her name. Her face was burning and she was happy to have something to concentrate on. She kept her eyes on the screen of the camera, and in that screen, Tegan's eyes looked back at her. "So the only thing we could do was offer her a job. It was like the only alternative. . . So everyone, please give your warmest welcome to Jamie, our biggest fan, with the longest hair, who is now our videographer—"  
People shouted. People would shout if Tegan went up there and belched, for sure, but some people shouted _Jaaaiiiimeeeeee _and more still shouted _Wojooooo! _A few fanbians behind her clutched her shoulders and whooped. Jamie somehow remained conscious as the band cheered, clapped for her.

"This next one's for her," Sara added, and they launched into "The Con."

Jamie laughed, briefly, at the irony of the song choice. _I listened in, yes I'm guilty of this, you should know this. . . _her short laugh would need to be edited out of the footage later. She couldn't believe any of it.

. . . . . .

It was after that show that Jamie, hiding in a backstage washroom to avoid two of her former concert-going buddies who asked too many questions, learned that people really do crouch in toilet stalls, draw their feet up and hold their breath while other people talk about them. She sat there, heart pounding, when the conversation started, tense and low, in front of the sink.

"And you need to be careful what you say in front of Jamie," Sara said, setting her bag on the counter and digging through it.

"I'm not worried about Jamie," Tegan said, and Jamie heard the faucet come on.

"She's a fan," Sara said. "It's nothing against her at all but she's a fan and she's friends with fans and she has a camera with her like. . . all the time. . ." There was silence from Tegan for a moment. Jamie pressed her palms against the walls of the bathroom stall, trying to quiet her heart through force of will alone. It was too late for her to flush and come out and pretend not to have heard anything. She just had to wait and hope nobody tried the door.

"Yeah," Tegan conceded heavily.

"It's just. . . be a little careful," Sara said, and Tegan snorted.

"That's funny," she said, sarcastically.

"What's so funny about it?" Sara asked.

"You're saying I have to be careful, and you're the one whose hands were—"

"Tegan—"

"On the bus, in the barn—"

"Shut up, Tegan,"

"In the hotel while Jamie was asleep—"

"Tegan—"

"Or you hope she was—"

"Stop it!" Sara snapped. "Just fucking stop it."

"Why? Why should I stop it? Why won't you talk to me about it?"

Jamie nervously peeked through the gap between the door and the wall of the stall, and saw them, eyeing each other in the mirror, tense. _Reflections _was never like this.

"What is there to say?" Sara retorted, exasperated.

Tegan's eyes never left the reflection of her sister's. She shook her head.

"Six times," Tegan said, the volume and pitch of her voice dropping. "Six times, Sara."

"Fuck you, Tegan," Sara hissed.

"Make that seven, then," Tegan said, her mouth twisting into a humourless grin.

Sara stormed out of the washroom and Jamie could see Tegan's face reflected in the cracked bathroom mirror, cast down. She gripped the edge of the sink and took a deep breath. So did Jamie.


	5. I Promise I Won't Linger Long

**Chapter 5: I Promise I Won't Linger Long**

It was hard, Jamie found out, to relax around them when they hated each other. And that's how it really seemed, although she knew that the truth was something entirely more complicated. There was so much tension at times that it reminded her of home. Just that morning, when she could no longer ignore the calls from her family, she had spoken to her mother, who had berated her over ditching school to go on tour with a band. Perhaps a certain level of indifference towards school had built up upon being asked, by Tegan, to officially do what she'd already been doing for years anyway... something that meant more to her, by far, than school ever could. The guilt gnawed at her anyway, and when her siblings called as well to lay on their share of the guilt, she stopped answering her phone.

The boys felt the tension too, and did their best to add levity when needed, and to stay out of the way otherwise. Jamie thought they did a pretty good job of judging when those times were. The night that Sara threw a half-full bottle of Vitamin Water at Tegan's head, Ted smoothly took hold of Jamie's arm and invited her, as though nothing was amiss, to go out for a frappucino. She went with him, relieved, but also somewhat hesitant, she would admit only to herself, to miss what might come next. The secret was weighing on her. She wished either she could talk to someone about it or that the secret would come out and somehow the pressure would be off. But would it? Did the boys know? They couldn't. They must! But no, they couldn't. Their crew? Their _parents?_

"Um. . ." Jamie started as they left the bus and walked the few blocks to the nearest Starbucks. "So, is it always like this?"

"Nah, not really. I mean, they fight but. . . lately it's been a lot worse." They thought about that for a while as they walked.

"Why do you think that is?" Jamie asked him carefully. Ted shook his head.

"I really don't know. It's just something between the two of them and. . ." His hesitation was intensely suspenseful for Jamie. _Did he know?_ "Their relationship is just . . . _different _from other siblings," he finished, somewhat obviously.

_That's an understatement, _Jamie thought.

"It looks like they hate each other these days," she said.

"Yeah, it looks like that sometimes." He laughed. "But try fucking with one of them and see what the other one does. Ha..."

This talk with Ted did nothing to settle Jamie's doubts. She didn't think he knew. And if he did, he wasn't going to say anything. And then, she couldn't say anything either, could she? The idea felt like betrayal to her. As conflicted as she was, she would have keep their secret, even under an organ thief's knife. After all, she only needed one kidney.

Everyone seemed to suffer under this new strain between the girls. On stage, their "banter" ranged from antagonistic to outright hostile. Sara, it seemed, jumped on every opportunity to make a cutting joke at Tegan's expense, or to blatantly attack her. And Tegan was no match for it. She was hurt and confused and it was so obvious; Sara was overflowing with anger and nobody knew why, it seemed. Anyway, if they knew, Jamie wished they would give her a sign. The secret made her feel entirely alone.

After a few more solid weeks on the bus, a night at a hotel, no matter how cut-rate, no matter how many people to a bed, sounded good to Jamie. A place with a bathtub; a bed that didn't vibrate; it all sounded good.

There were only three women on the road, and so the three of them, it seemed, would share a room. Jamie couldn't help but wonder if Tegan and Sara had their own room when they stayed in hotels before hiring her. It wasn't her idea to share with them, and she would have volunteered to stay with one or two of the boys, zombie sneakers or not, to give them their privacy. But they had no ostensible reason to require privacy, so Jamie had no way to offer it to them without revealing what she knew.

Given the dynamic between them the last few weeks, Jamie wondered what exactly the sleeping arrangements would be, so, since she was the first to enter the hotel room, she set her bag on one of the two queen-sized beds and decided that they could figure it out for themselves while she was in the shower.

Jamie stood there under the hot water for a long time, longer than she needed to, but showering on the bus or in the grungy venues was an underwhelming affair and she longed for water pressure again. Washing her endless hair without water pressure was like trying to nail Jello to a tree.

She was in there long enough to wash several long-haired girls' hair several times over before the voices raised loud enough to be heard over the hiss of the shower. The first voice she heard was Tegan's. Jamie didn't need to make out the words to feel it all teetering on the edge of collapse. There was Tegan's voice again, loud, and a lower, tenser voice from Sara; silence; a crash; loud expletives; the dull thud of things slamming into other things; silence; a shriek of pain. That scream sent a wave of panic through Jamie and she hurriedly pulled a t-shirt and shorts on over her wet skin, hair dripping, and flung the door open.

"Oh my God!" she cried at the sight of them on the hotel room floor, throttling each other. It was hard to say who was the aggressor, but at the first moment, Sara was straddling Tegan, grappling with her dangerously flailing arms until Tegan broke free, took hold of Sara's belt and quite deftly flipped her onto her back with a sick thump. On her knees with Sara's legs around her, she grabbed Sara's jacket and pulled it up over her face, held her down. Sara swung at her blindly, smashing Tegan on the nose.

"Fuck!" she shouted, punching the blind Sara's shoulder and reapplying pressure to the jacket over her face as Sara yelped in pain and squeezed Tegan with her thighs, trying to throw her off balance. Jamie heard Sara's muffled cries as she kicked at Tegan.

"Hey, you guys!" Jamie said, dismayed. "Stop it! Come on!" She stood some distance away from them, frozen. A large part of her wanted to run and hide from this but something stopped her. Perhaps fear that they would kill each other and that would be it.

"Fuck you!" Tegan wailed. "Why-" she sputtered, choking on her words, one hand now clenched around Sara's throat, Sara's hands frantically grasping to pull it off. "Why don't you. . . why don't you. . ." To Jamie's ears, Tegan was bordering on hysterical. If something didn't change, something was going to break.

The sight of blood and the unhinged rage released Jamie's frozen feet. She ran up quickly behind Tegan, who was now dripping blood from her nose down the front of her shirt and onto the carpet and Sara's jacket. They were going to hurt each other and then what?

"Tegan, stop!" Jamie yelled, sliding in behind Tegan and throwing her arms around Tegan's torso, jerking her back off of Sara. Tegan fell back into Jamie and they both thudded down onto the carpet as Sara gasped and choked. Jamie kept her hands locked across Tegan's stomach, the wetness from her hair and her body soaking through both her shirt and Tegan's between them. "Stop!" she said again, surprised at how firm she sounded despite how uncertain she felt. Tegan lay against her, chest heaving, and then struck out at Sara with one foot, connecting with her ribs.

"Fucking kick me, you fucking motherfucker!" Sara yelled, yanking the jacket off of her red face, coughing and clutching her side where Tegan's foot had smashed into her. Her hair was in her eyes; her eyes were flashing.

"Call me a motherfucker, you fucking bitch!" Tegan screamed back at her, suddenly straining against Jamie's arms in an attempt to strike out at Sara again. Tegan's nose was bleeding heavily. Jamie felt the hot blood dripping on her hands and wrists, but held on and when Tegan lunged forward, Jamie pulled back.

"No!" she said. "No, you guys!" She looked at Sara's face over Tegan's shoulder, flushed, damp with sweat from the struggle, her hands now grasping her throat where Tegan's fingers had left angry-looking red blotches, her bangs plastered across her forehead. When Sara looked at Tegan and took in her bloody face, something other than anger flickered in her eyes, and the intensity of her rage dissipated somewhat. They sat like that, on the carpet, lungs heaving, glaring at each other.

"I'm not sleeping in the same fucking bed as you!" Sara snapped.

"Oh, I'm fucking _heartbroken!_" Tegan snapped back, and suddenly they were lunging at each other again. For a moment, Jamie had a flash of understanding of what it was like to be an elementary school teacher, or perhaps a prison warden.

"Fuck you," Sara spat.

"Go fuck yourself," Tegan retorted. Jamie held fast; Tegan had stopped straining against her arms and instead pressed her shirt sleeve against her bloody nose, which was still flowing. "Fuck," she said, weakly, "you broke my nose." There was a weary kind of surprise in Tegan's tone, and Jamie felt Tegan's laboured breaths against her body as she leaned back into her.

"It's not broken," Sara said, but her voice had lost much of its anger and had taken on a slightly apologetic tone. "I'll go get some ice." Jamie blinked in surprise at Sara who, a moment ago, was calling Tegan a motherfucker and was now running off to get ice for her nose. Jamie reluctantly released Tegan and crawled around in front of her.

"Holy shit," Jamie gasped when she saw Tegan's bloody face and watery eyes. Tegan seemed on the verge of fainting, cupping one hand under her dripping nose.

"Blood," Tegan said stupidly, bleary-eyed. Jamie brought her eyes level with Tegan's, but Tegan seemed unable to focus on her.

"Put your head back," Jamie said, and Tegan did, leaning her head back against the edge of the mattress. Jamie retrieved a towel from the bathroom, rolled it up a little and handed it to Tegan, who held it gingerly against her nose. Jamie sat back, quietly. She had surprised herself by getting involved in their fight, but now, in the aftermath, with the shouting over, her shyness returned and she sat awkwardly on the carpet, across from Tegan, feeling severely out of place. Sara came in with a plastic tub full of ice cubes and crossed quickly to Tegan, kneeling by her side.

"Here," she said, taking the towel from her sister's hand and unrolling it. She piled some ice cubes inside of it and rolled it up again. "You hold this," Sara said, putting the towel in Tegan's hand and then guiding Tegan's hand back to her nose. With a slightly sheepish look, Sara's eyes met Jamie's.

"Fun times, hey?" she asked, getting up and going into the bathroom quickly. Tegan, with her head resting on the mattress, opened one eye and looked up at Jamie, who smiled at her weakly.

"You okay?" Jamie asked, feeling somewhat lost. What else could she say? Once again, the anxiety of witnessing something she shouldn't have washed over her like a wave. She looked down at her own hands, her stomach twisting to see them covered with Tegan's blood. _If they were any other couple, _Jamie thought,_ someone would call the police. _But the fact that they were sisters made the violence seem almost normal. . . until factoring in the entire context of their relationship, which made it seem all the more horrifying.

Water was running in the bathroom.

"Uh huh," Tegan said, and chuckled weakly. "How do I look?"

"Spectacular," Jamie said, looking up, and Tegan chuckled again. Sara came back with a wet face cloth.

"Let me. . ." she said, moving Tegan's hand aside. "Yuck," she said, and, so gently it surprised Jamie, she started wiping the blood off of Tegan's lips, chin, and neck. Tegan looked down at her hands. "Keep your head back," Sara said, lifting Tegan's chin with her fingers.

"Okay."

"Okay," she said. She wiped away the majority of the blood from Tegan's face and neck and then began cleaning her smudged, sticky hands. Jamie watched Sara tenderly wipe the crimson mess off of her sister's fingers, watched Tegan passively allow it, her eyes closed and her head tipped back against the bed. Tegan didn't move, didn't make a sound, didn't open her eyes, but the tears leaked out from under her eyelids anyway.

"Don't cry, Tegan," Sara said, her voice pained, and Jamie felt, powerfully, that she shouldn't be there. It seemed unlikely that they would start trying to murder each other again, so Jamie stood, quietly, and skirted around the bed and towards the door as unobtrusively as she could.

"I'm not," Tegan said thickly, as Sara wiped the tears off of Tegan's face with her sleeve.

"You are," she said gently.

"No way."

"If your nose runs, you're on your own," Sara said, and Tegan laughed, lightly.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Hey, Jamie, having fun yet?" Tegan asked ironically, with a tired half-smile at Jamie, who was about to turn the doorknob. Jamie faltered, trying to return the smile and feeling herself failing, her mind reeling and heart pounding painfully as she stared down at her two favorite people in the world, disheveled and broken, covered in sweat and blood.

"You have no idea." She recalled an interview she had read where Chris Walla talked about what it was like to work with Tegan and Sara so closely on an album. _They're twins, you know, fire and ice. But it's a way more interesting, awesome, nuanced, horrifying relationship than that. All of those things, all the time. _

Horrifying. That adjective had intrigued Jamie since the moment she read it. What on earth could he have meant? She watched Sara start to blot Tegan's blood from the carpet. Either Chris had known exactly what he was talking about, or he had no idea.

"We're sorry. You don't have to go," Sara said. "Shit, you must think we're completely insane," Sara smiled at her wearily.

"We're not, really, I promise. . . I think. . . I mean . . . God, we're the worst bosses ever," Tegan said. She sounded like she had a head cold.

"Ha, you're really not. . ."

"Stay with us. If you want, I mean. We're going to get pizza and watch HBO."


	6. I Promise I Won't Push My Face Up

**Author's Note: Thank you all for all of your lovely feedback so far. :) It means a lot to me. Please feel free to leave comments on each chapter if you like, I really don't mind if you do! I'd love to hear what you liked the most and what caught your attention. :) I've already written the next 9-10 chapters, and hearing from you all has been my motivation to get them up faster! #bribery ;D Now, back to our regularly scheduled program.**

**Chapter 6: I Promise I Won't Push My Face Up Against Your Clothes**

_How are they going to explain this?_ Jamie asked herself, up front at stage left. They played the first few songs without commenting on it and Jamie started to wonder if they were going to pretend nothing had happened, but fans were shouting questions at her from the crowd: _Tegan, what happened to your face! Tegan did Sara hit you? PANDA! YOU LOOK LIKE A PANDA! _It seemed only a matter of time before they would address it.

Sara was switching guitars after the third song when someone with a booming voice asked again. "TEGAN WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?"

Everyone shouted. Jamie did a tight shot of Tegan's face, as Tegan looked down at her with a slight smile.

"You guys want to know what happened to my face?" _Cheers. _"Well, what do _you _think happened?" She looked around the crowd as people shouted an assortment of explanations. _Sara! _A few people shouted.

"Sara? You think my own sister – you think my own _twin sister, _who shared a _womb _with me for nine months, made me look like this? Like a raccoon?" Tegan asked the crowd. "Do you guys have raccoons here in the US?" The crowd shrieked incredulously, _yes. _A few shouted _no._

"No, it's not like – you don't look like a raccoon. You look like a raccoon that was hit in the face with, like, a hammer," Sara described helpfully.

"Do you think you want to draw attention to it like that? They all think you did it," Tegan joked, gesturing to the audience. Sara laughed, said something nobody could make out over the cheers from the crowd.

_"Jaaaamieeeeee!" _someone shouted.

"Did you say _Jamie?_" Tegan asked, searching the crowd. "You think _Jamie _fucked up my face like this?" Laughter, cheers, shrieks, as Tegan shielded her eyes from the lights, searched the crowd. "Why would you think Jamie, our lovely videographer, here, up front, the sexy one—"

"Come on," Sara intervened. "She's shy, look at her. She doesn't want you standing on stage and pointing her out as the sexy one," Sara said.

"Why not? Who doesn't want to be called sexy?"

"Yeah, but she's a fan and you're—"

"She's not a _fan," _Tegan laughed.

"Jamie, are you still a fan?" Sara asked her, looking down at her from stage right. Jamie laughed, nodding, as she trained the camera on Sara, her heart racing. She was laughing, but, inside, there was chaos. The scene from the previous night flashed vividly through her mind, and as they were laughing about it on stage, like they laughed about so many events from their lives, Jamie was recalling their near-hysterical rage, the violence of them striking out at each other, Tegan's hands on Sara's neck, as well as the gentleness Sara had shown Tegan as she tenderly wiped away the blood and the tears she had caused. _Now, they're joking about it, and the fans think it's all a joke and that Tegan's two black eyes came from an accident with a bathroom door or something._ All of the previous jokes she'd heard them tell on stage flooded back to her with entirely new layers of meaning that made her heart hurt.

"She's not a—she's gone beyond fandom now. She's our - God, poor Jamie," Tegan rambled, interrupting herself. "She goes through _so _much bullshit because of us—"

"Yeah," Sara started.

"I mean, yesterday, I bled all over her. So disgusting –" The cheers all around Jamie suggested to her that many of the people in the crowd would have happily volunteered to be bled on by Tegan. "Disgusting," Tegan went on. "Such a mess. Anyway, God, we're the worst bosses ever."

"We really are. It's true. And not only that, _after _you'd bled all over her, I got into bed with her."

The shouts and whoops were deafening. Jamie could hardly hold the camera still with the laughter and the jostling around her.

"You _did?" _Tegan asked, turning to Sara.

"Yeah, well _you _were breathing like - you were like, snoring, like, you sounded like a drowning rhinoceros," Sara explained to everyone's mirth. Jamie caught a shot of Johnny doubled over at his drum kit. Ted grinned, shaking his head, vigorously chewing his gum. Shaun smirked behind Tegan. "Okay, we were staying at a hotel and when we stay at hotels, we share rooms. We're not like, Oasis or something. .. up there trashing the penthouse suite. And there are only three of us girls on the road so we share a room. So get your minds out of the gutter."

"Oh, there's an excuse to get into bed with another girl, come on. I was _snoring._"

"It's true. It was like. . . the way you were breathing sounded like you were suffocating. Like what you did to me with the jacket," Sara said, and Tegan shook her head. "But there's no evidence of that so you're getting all the sympathy."

"I can just picture it, like, Sara's all like 'ooooh, Jamie, can I sleep with you? Tegan's snoring. . .'" Everyone laughed at the high-pitched voice Tegan used to imitate Sara. Jamie laughed too, recalling what had actually happened. She'd been asleep for a couple of hours when Sara prodded her shoulder. _Slide over, Jamie, _she'd casually said. Jamie slid over._Tegan is like. . . gurgling or something. _Sara got under the covers and was asleep in moments. Jamie peeked over Sara's shoulder at Tegan, who was splayed out, on her back, her arms tangled above her head in her messy hair. She had slid down the bed far enough that her head was not even resting on a pillow. Her mouth was open, and indeed, she was kind of gurgling. Even in that dim light, Jamie could see the bruising starting to darken the bridge of Tegan's nose. She lay there, next to Sara, listening to Tegan's laboured breathing for a good while before she slept.

"No, I was just like, 'shove over, Jamie,'" Sara said. The audience hooted, predictably. Tegan grinned, shaking her head.

"So inappropriate."

"Totally."

"We are the worst bosses. Jamie, do you hate us? Are you still a fan?" Tegan asked, looking down at Jamie at her feet. _I'm still a fan,_ Jamie mouthed at her, nodding with mock reluctance.

"God. What next, Tegan? What other like - what other bodily fluids are you going to spill on her next?" Crazy hooting from the crowd. Tegan laughed, her head thrown back, and Jamie's stomach dropped a few inches.

"Too far, too far. Okay, this next one's for Jamie."

. . . . . . .

Jamie, out behind the venue, stared at the screen of her cellphone and sighed. Crew members carried gear in and out of the venue as Sara and Tegan talked with a few fans, took some pictures. Jamie had been ignoring her phone. Her voicemail inbox had been full for weeks. It was difficult enough handling Tegan and Sara themselves, let alone her family and friends' questions about it all.

_Kim _her screen read, and she answered it heavily.

"Hello," she said.

"What the fucking _fuck _is going on!"

"Hi Kim," Jamie said, already tired.

"Seriously, is shit going down over there? There's a lot of gossip going around and you need to confirm some shit."

"Gossip about what?" Jamie asked. Did they know about the black eyes already?

"Well, Shelly told me about Tegan's black eyes—"

"Wow, you already heard about that?"

"Shelly and Josh are at the show. Didn't you see them?"

"No," Jamie said, keeping one eye on Tegan and Sara as they chatted with fans, took photos. Tegan's face really did look shocking.

"Well she just called and told me, but it's not just that. Like, what's with all the anger? Sara's like. . . she needs anger management classes or something," Kim said. Jamie sighed, slightly.

"Well, sisters fight," she said lamely. There was a momentary pause on the other end.

"Dude, we've seen tons of shows together. Have you ever seen anything as bad as the last few weeks?"

_No, _Jamie thought. _I've never seen ANYTHING like I've seen in the last few weeks. I've hardly even IMAGINED it. And I half-expect to wake up at any moment at the bus station with an over-full bladder, a stiff neck, and all of my stuff stolen._

"I don't know. They had a rough patch but. . . I don't know, things are getting better."

"Tegan's face? What happened there?" Kim asked, pressing. Jamie could feel Kim's tone.

"It was just an accident with a door," Jamie said, feeling a little flustered. She was not a good liar but the truth wasn't an option.

"A door," Kim said, not a question. There was a disbelieving kind of silence.

"What's with Sara saying 'I hate you' on stage like every second day? And the other show where she said 'I'm ashamed to be your sister' and it was totally not a joke." Jamie winced. She'd almost forgotten that comment amid the chaos of everything else that had gone on. At the moment, though, it was like a punch to the gut and Jamie held her breath to see if Tegan would respond in kind, would respond at all, would shake it off and go on. She looked slapped, confused, said something back which didn't make much sense, and went on.

"Ah, yeah, well you know, I don't sit there and listen to every conversation that they have. . . I don't know everything that goes on, you know."

"You know more than you're saying, though."

"I really don't," Jamie said wearily, getting even more tired.

"You were always fine with the gossip before and now you're all like—"

"Well, I'm _working_ for them now," Jamie said. "Some things aren't appropriate..."

_Click._


	7. Or Your Stupid Sheets

**Chapter 7: Or Your Stupid Sheets**

Jamie lost track of who was going where after the show; some people were going straight to the club for Johnny's birthday bash, while Sara, Johnny and Ted went out for a quick Thai dinner before the party. Sara said she couldn't drink heavily on an empty stomach, and drinking heavily was apparently in her plan. Jamie didn't like Thai food anyway, and opted instead to go back to the bus to clean up and change into something more suitable for a party. There was no sign of Tegan or Shaun, so Jamie promised to catch up with the others and went straight to the bus.

The shower on the bus was nothing but a trickle. Jamie stood there, waiting for the listless stream to soak through her hair, reflecting on the last twenty-four hours. All that had happened around her was exhausting, but she had to admit that it was exciting, despite the blood and the tears. And she felt an internal shift, since witnessing the blood-and-tears moment that she never should have witnessed: she was starting to. . . get used to it. The thought of them being together still sent her mind reeling, but the part of her that recoiled from it was gradually eroding away. She was still shocked, yes. But horrified less. And the thought of them together in the hay still made the heat rush from her extremities to her centre.

This thought preoccupied her as she got out of the shower, dried off, and started to dress. With all of these conflicting thoughts rolling through her brain, she had done a very distracted, incomplete job of preparing to shower on the bus, and would, she realized, need to quickly run from the bathroom and back to her bunk wearing only underwear. Comfortable in the knowledge that they were all either at the party already or at the restaurant, she stepped out of the bathroom, quickly, and met Tegan's two black eyes with hers.

She may or may not have screamed as she quickly stepped back into the bathroom and closed the door. _Shit! _She said to herself, horrified. _Fucking fuck! _She picked up a towel and clutched it to her chest. Too little, too late!

"Oh—sorry Jamie!" she heard Tegan's voice from outside, coming closer. There was an apology in her voice, and there was laughter. "Hey, Jamie, haha. . ." Tegan laughed, her voice now just on the other side of the door. Jamie stood on her side, frozen.

"I'm really sorry!" she said again.

"Uh – it's – not your fault," Jamie stumbled.

"Don't be embarrassed, okay?" Tegan said through the door. Jamie stepped away from the door.

"Haha. . . right," she said, her face burning. _Oh God._

"No, really, don't worry about it! We're all girls," Tegan said. Jamie's embarrassment stopped her laughter. What difference did that make? _And we're all gay! _she thought of saying, but didn't.

"Yeah, so I'm just going to stay in the bathroom for the rest of the night so. . . say happy birthday to Johnny for me,' Jamie said with a little nervous laugh.

"Nooooo, you have to come!" Tegan protested. "Look, I'll show you my tits too, if it will make you feel better. Then we'll be even!"

_Oh God._ Jamie covered her eyes with one hand, still clutching the towel as if it could retroactively remove the memory from Tegan's eyes. _Sure, that sounds fair,_ Jamie thought, but didn't say it. "Come on, you have nothing to be embarrassed about! You have a hot body! You're a sexy motherfucker!"

"Okay!" Jamie said quickly, as the conversation was only making it worse. "Um, I'll come out and get dressed but I will, um, maybe wait for you to leave first?" she said timidly.

"Okay, but promise you'll come, okay?" Tegan asked, sounding sorry enough to make Jamie sorry too.

"It's okay," Jamie said. "I'll get over it. Or just live in here, forever. . ."

"Okay," Tegan laughed. "I'll just shove some food under the door from time to time."

"Thanks," Jamie said.

"Pineapple yogurt?"

"Great."

"Okay. See you at the party!" She heard Tegan's footsteps leave and then the bus door clicking shut. After a moment more of paralysing mortification, she forced herself out of the bathroom, this time completely protected by a towel, got dressed quickly, and left for the party.

...

It was a good party; all of the band was there, and all of the crew; friends of the band and crew; many fans. They had booked a small club and it was a closed party, so there was a lot of noise, a lot of alcohol, a lot of action. The energy was good; the band and crew felt the change between the twins; Sara's anger had largely subsided: she was subdued, and somewhat apologetic. Tegan, both eyes purple and blue, seemed happier than she had been in weeks. It was a shift that must have seemed inexplicable to those who had not witnessed the cathartic battle between them. That is, to everyone but Jamie. She recalled Tegan's words from weeks earlier: _I'll forgive you, Sara! All you have to do is be sorry! _It was true, it seemed. Sara was sorry; Tegan was happy. Jamie looked forward, hopefully, to a few days without tears.

By the time Jamie arrived, things were already in full swing. Many people were on their third and fourth drinks. She gave Johnny a birthday hug, and he lifted her off her feet and gave her a twirl.

"Happy birthday, Johnny," she said to him warmly, and he gave her a noisy kiss on the cheek and ran off to be loved by some more people.

"Hey! Jamie! Videographer to the stars!" She vaguely recognized the voice before she turned around to face the speaker.

"Hey, Kelly," Jamie said, relieved when the girl responded appropriately to the name. "Good to see you."

"You too! I was hoping to see you. I have so many _questions," _Kelly said with a scandalized expression. Kelly was tiny and Asian and predisposed towards scandalized expressions.

"Ha, okay," Jamie said hesitantly as people swirled around her. She kept her virgin cocktail close at hand.

"Is it true that Sara broke Tegan's nose?" She asked in an indelicate stage-whisper. Jamie tried not to roll her eyes.

"Uh, it's not broken. . ." Jamie replied. Tegan, miraculously, slid in next to Jamie and put an arm around her waist. This was so sudden, so jarring, that Jamie nearly dropped her cocktail on her foot.

"Hey sexy!" Tegan said cheekily, giving Jamie a squeeze. Kelly, drink in hand, mouth open, blinked. "Hi, I'm Tegan," she said, extending a hand to Kelly.

"I know," Kelly said, staring back at Tegan's outstretched hand.

"Did Jamie tell you I saw her naked earlier today? Awesome!" Tegan laughed and bounced off after her friends, leaving a stupefied Kelly and a mortified Jamie.

"Oooooh my God," Jamie said,under her breath.

"She _what?" _Kelly asked incredulously. Jamie shook her head.

"It's not what it sounds like..." she said lamely.

"Your life is like. . . not real."

Jamie had a few more conversations like that – deflecting questions, denying rumours – and the party was at its peak when Sara came up to her, subtly pulling her aside into a corner.

"Hey, I just wanted to say. . . I'm sorry about last night and everything –" Jamie waved her hand to dismiss it, sipping her cocktail awkwardly. She felt stupid when people apologized to her.

"Hey, there's nothing to apologize to _me _for," she laughed. "Maybe _Tegan. . ._" Sara laughed.

"I'll be apologizing to her for a _loooong _time. . ." she joked, bringing Jamie to wonder how, exactly, she'd make up for it. "But really, she had a jacket over my head. I didn't know what I was doing."

"True," Jamie conceded.

"And thanks for sharing your bed!" she added.

"Haha, anytime," Jamie said magnanimously, and her stomach quivered a little.

"God, what a mess we must seem like to you," Sara said, joking, but with her forehead furrowing.

"Well. . . I didn't come into it _totally _blindly," Jamie pointed out, thinking of all the jabs, insults, and arguments she'd witnessed through the lens of her camera over the years.

"Sure," Sara laughed, thinking this over. "But I guess you didn't expect so much blood."

"Haha, good point. Are you guys. . . better? You seem better," she asked carefully, wanting to know but not knowing how to phrase it. Sara finished an amber-coloured drink with ice in it.

"Yeah, you know. . . I don't know. Everything will be fine in the end."

"If it isn't fine, it isn't the end," Jamie offered.

"Exactly," Sara said. "Well, I need to be a little more drunk than this. See you in a bit!" And she ran off to the bar. Jamie wondered, idly, what Sara needed to be drunk for, as she for the first time noticed the migraine coming on and rubbed her temples. She had them often, and she had drugs for them back at the bus. All of the dodging and lying and surprise interruptions by Tegan and Sara were starting to cause an ache that started at the base of her neck and threatened to wrap around her entire skull. She spotted Tegan and Sara chatting happily with two girls Jamie recognized but didn't know why. Johnny was still there, talking to Piers. She might be able to stop the headache if she got back to the bus and took her meds before it worsened. With all of the activity going on, nobody would even notice if she slipped out.

...

She _was _very groggy, but maybe, in retrospect, there had been time for her to let them know she was there, on the bus, in her bunk and not at the party. Did they talk when they came in? Did they bang around a little in their drunken states? If so, she didn't hear it. The drugs knocked her out, and she was a deep sleeper as it was. Exhaustion, mental and physical, no doubt, contributed as well. So by the time she well and truly grasped the situation, it was beyond the point where she could escape.

Ironically, they were very quiet. Soft movements, softer voices. They were quiet despite their certainty that they were alone.

Jamie didn't hear Tegan climb into her bunk, directly above her nose. Nor did she hear Sara climb up into the bunk to join Tegan, if indeed that's how it went. The first thing that drifted into her consciousness was laughter, and Sara's voice.

"Hah," Sara chuckled, softly. "You're so cheesy." Tegan chuckled too.

"I think we're alone now. . ." Tegan sang quietly.

_Oh my God, it's happening again, _Jamie thought wildly, holding her breath. _Except this time, they're a foot above my face and if I breathe, they'll hear me. If I BLINK, they'll hear me. . ._

She heard the soft rustling of blankets, of clothing, of their bodies together.

"God, Tegan. . ."

"There doesn't seem to be anyone a-rou-ound. . ." Tegan sang again with a laugh.

"You're drunk," Sara whispered with a laugh.

"So are you!

"Okay, you're drunk and stupid. I'm just drunk."

"You're drunk and. . ." Jamie heard Tegan's voice strain, a little, and heard them roll and shift above her. ". . . topped," she finished with a laughing whisper. Sara gasped, almost inaudibly.

"Tegan!" she hissed, and, from the sound of her voice, Jamie would have said she was blushing. "What are you doing?"

"I'm topping _you_ this time!" Tegan whispered, with a giggle.

For a moment, all Jamie could hear was the same soft rustling, and the sounds of slow, soft kisses. She heard a voice, more than a sigh, and less than a moan.

"No you're not. . ." Sara whispered back. There was more shifting. The sound of a soft struggle with clothing, and the sound of lips on skin, and then a sharp _ouch!_

"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" Sara said, meaning it.

"My nose. . ." Tegan explained, sounding pained.

"I'm so sorry..." Sara repeated. "Here. . . " The sound of several light kisses.

Jamie was caught between terror and excitement. _What if I sneeze? _she thought. _What if I start coughing? Have to pee? Fall asleep and snore? _She admitted to herself that the last one was an extremely remote possibility.

"Here, you don't need. . ." Sara said, in a low voice, followed by the sound of a zipper.

"Yes, I do. . ." came Tegan's softly laughing voice.

"No, you really really don't. . ." For several minutes, there were the soft noises of two people undressing each other, and when these rustling sounds ceased, Jamie's face flushed hot, as she tried, and failed, not to think about the fact that they were probably both now wearing nothing. She heard their bodies shift and slide a little against the sheets, and more kisses. Jamie stared at the bottom of the bunk above her, wondering why they hadn't decided to install glass bunks, although one-way mirrors would certainly work better in this situation. She pondered again, for the millionth time, whether this was really something she wanted to see. However, she thought to herself, that particular decision didn't really seem like hers to make as of late.

"_Ooooh," _came Tegan's voice, very soft, and it was familiar to Jamie in a way that made her guts flutter. She'd heard that sound from Tegan's mouth before, through her headphones, in her videos. . . in the hotel and in the barn. . .

"_Can you. . ." _Tegan's voice, very slightly anxious, a hitch in her breath., _"please. . ."_

"_Yes," _Sara said back, gently. There was some movement, a sound of rattling, jingling. _Oh my God. . . this is not happening! _Jamie thought. _Right above me!_

There was more shifting, soft murmurs, the sound of lips.

"_Open. . ." _Sara whispered, and Jamie breathed in sharply, and stifled the sound with a hand. Someone above her drew in a deep, quick breath, and then a soft, aching moan. _Tegan,_Jamie thought, her face burning against her pillow.

She could hear breathing now, heavier than before, and she could feel their movement slowly increasing, rocking, transmitted through the wall of the bus and into the bunk beneath her own body, slow but rhythmic. The sounds of their kisses continued. _They're so quiet, _Jamie thought. _They're all alone, but so quiet. . ._

The rhythmic movement intensified; their breaths deepened; occasionally, a breath would catch in someone's throat. Here and there, a moan, or a murmur. There were murmurs from Sara, too, who Jamie knew was on top without needing to see. She tried to identify the familiar sounds she heard: the many types of kisses, of mouths together and lips on skin; the sound of skin sliding on sheets, of bodies moving together, the faint squeaking of the thin mattress; so many types of breathing. Deep, shallow, sharp, quick. Sighs, murmurs.

"_Umm..." _Tegan said, and Sara's voice, low, in the background. _"I. . ."_

"_What?" _Sara murmured softly, her breath quickening, and the movement didn't cease. "_Say it. . ."_

_Yes, say it! _Jamie thought, lying there, absolutely still. But Tegan didn't say it. Instead, her breath quickened too, and she murmured something against Sara's lips. The rocking movement slowed somewhat, to a soft protest from Tegan.

_"Don't stop. . ."_

Jamie shivered, against her will, as the intensity of the rhythm above her escalated, as did the sounds of their voices until Tegan's voice lifted above the sounds of their bodies together with a surprised _Oh. _Sara didn't stop, though.

"_Oh. . ." _Jamie heard Tegan moan, "_oh. . ." _again and then, one more time, convulsively, "_ohhh. . ."_

_"Jesus," _Sara said quietly, over Tegan's laboured breaths. _"Wow." _Long, slow kisses.

_"Yeah..." _Tegan's breathy whisper, sheepish, and more kisses. Then, a faint clink and jingling again. A pause, and then sheets rustling.

_"Tegan. . ." _came Sara's soft protest.

"_I need you," _Tegan replied, her voice low.

_"I'm here."_

"_I need. . ." _Tegan breathed, hesitant. _"Can I. . . touch you?"_

Jamie had stopped breathing. If they found her. . . if they heard her. . . she couldn't think of a greater violation of two people's privacy. She never intended to hear this, but she was hearing it, and her body was feeling it. She sensed the hesitation above her. A long pause. Jamie held her breath. Then, barely audible,

"_. . .okay."_

There was shifting, moving, rolling again. Then, a few moments of quiet, before a deep moan from Sara that sounded so much like Tegan's voice that it did weird things to Jamie's stomach. There were more soft moans from Sara, muffled against Tegan's mouth, but Sara's voice had changed. It was no longer hesitant, or closed off, or demanding; now it was overwhelmed with vulnerability and longing in response to Tegan's gentle murmurs.

"_I want. . . to make you feel. . . how I feel," _Tegan whispered.

Jamie held her breath as Sara struggled to answer, but could only whimper in response.

This time, the rocking lasted only a few minutes. Sara must have already been halfway there when Tegan started touching her. Jamie couldn't help but wonder _how _Tegan was touching Sara. . .

_"Tegan," _Sara murmured in a voice that ached, and then a long shuddering gasp. Their breathing, deep and heavy, together.

"_Wow. . ." _Tegan whispered.

Kisses. A sigh. Shifting, rustling sounds. Their breathing slowed, and they kissed again, and then again.

_"I love you," _Sara whispered, very quietly. Tegan's laugh, very soft.

_"I know."_


	8. I Deserve A Stay, A Second Thought

**Author's Note: Seriously, the more I hear from you all, the more excited I am to put up the rest. Please keep letting me know your thoughts and what you like! I've spent so much time working on this that it's awesome knowing what catches people's attention. ;) And here we go!**

Chapter 8: I Deserve a Stay, a Second Thought

Jamie lay there below them, her extremities numb, her heart racing. She realized that at some point she had even stopped swallowing. They were quiet for a while; there were no more words, but a few quiet kisses, some gentle rustling. Should she lay there and wait for them to get dressed and move, as they surely would before the boys came back? ...Unless the boys already knew? The possibility occurred to Jamie that everyone knew, and thought that she didn't.

The sounds of them above her were now indelibly integrated, in her mind, into the mosaic that was already there, made up of pictures and fragments of them in the barn together, in the hotel when she'd been drugged, and later, with Tegan's smashed nose. They were missing pieces that fit into the incomplete picture she'd developed over years of following them that was slowly beginning to make sense. And in her mind, she didn't know if it was wrong or right or neither, but she had started to believe that it was possible for two people to literally be made for each other.

After a few quiet minutes, she heard a movement, and a soft, sleepy grunt.

"Oh," came Sara's voice. "Damn, I fell asleep. . ."

"Uh oh, me too, almost. We'd better get up. . ."

There was rustling and the pulling on of clothes, some soft laughter. Sara did not run away; Tegan did not need to call after her.

"Where's my -" Tegan's voice,

"Here," Sara replied, with a laugh, as they dressed, and then one of them dropped from the bunk. Jamie could see, through her curtain, the shape of a body standing next to the bunk, as she again strained not to move.

"Bye," Tegan said sadly, and they kissed again. Sara crossed to the other side and climbed into her own bunk. Jamie stayed as quiet and still as she could until she heard Tegan's breathing above her grow deep and steady. She strained to hear some sign that Sara was asleep too and once she heard it, she allowed herself one quiet sigh of relief. Shortly after, she was asleep.

The week that followed was the happiest so far. On stage, they were funny together; they laughed at each other's jokes, helped each other's anecdotes. Gone were the sharp jabs and angry retorts of the previous weeks. Off stage, their interaction was easy, harmonious. There was still sadness underneath it, but the intense push-and-pull had subsided. Jamie was standing right beneath Tegan the night that Sara, from her keyboard, told an anecdote about the recent death of a famous Canadian musician who had spent a lifetime touring and making music with her sister. When Sara said there was no one else she'd rather be doing this with for the rest of her life than Tegan, Jamie couldn't help but get a tight shot of Tegan's face while she fiddled with her tuning pegs as her face flushed with embarrassed happiness and her eyes shone slightly. Even the fanbians, obsessing over the YouTube videos, commented endlessly about how sweet they were to each other those days. Jamie hoped it would last forever.

...

"Okay," Johnny said, crunching on an ice cube from his cherry coke, "best car chase." There were a few ummmmms around the booth. Ted looked at Jamie, who shrugged, taking a bite of her grilled cheese sandwich.

"Haha, I have no idea. . . The Italian Job?" she said, and received a pleased wink from Ted.

"Bullitt," Shaun said, and Johnny nodded his approval.

"Mmmhmmm," he said, his mouth full.

"How about Ronin?" Sara suggested, to the surprise and pleasure of the boys.

"All right!" Ted said, giving her a high five.

"Okay, best dramatic pause," Ted asked.

"That's easy," Tegan said. "Christopher Walken in Pulp Fiction when-"

"Oh, yeah yeah! Yeah! When he's telling the story of the watch to the little kid -"

"He carried the hunk of metal up his ass!" Tegan exclaimed, and Sara laughed.

"Haha!" Sara said, "Yeah, totally. Okay, ummmm. . ."

"Jamie, are you seven?" Ted asked with a grin.

"Hmm? What?"

"Grilled cheese?"

"Shut up. It's comfort food," she said.

"You tell him, Jamie," Tegan said, nudging her. _Damn it_, Jamie thought. _Why do I still have to blush every time she touches me?_

"What's wrong, Jamie?" Shaun teased. "Why are you in need of comfort?" I don't know where to start, she thought.

"Because you guys are teasing me about my sandwich," she said wryly, and they laughed.

"Aha! See what she did there?" Ted asked.

Tegan reached across the table to wipe a bit of mustard off the corner of Sara's mouth with her thumb. Jamie's eyes quickly flicked up and met Ted's. _Was that a knowing look he just gave me?_ Jamie wondered. She reflected on her own life, asking herself if she would ever wipe mustard off of her sister's face with her fingers, and the answer was a quick and certain_no_. Did the boys know? They must know... They couldn't know!

...

After the show that night, Jamie went to check some footage on her computer backstage while the band gathered up their gear. In a hallway near the back of the venue, near an open double door, she found a wooden bench to sit her computer on, and parked there while the crew and the band cleaned up.

She looked up to see Sara, camera in hand, head to head with Tegan, who still had a guitar slung over her shoulder. It was in the middle of this easy interaction that a girl came in who Jamie vaguely recognized but didn't know why. She was small, perhaps as short as the twins, with a dark, asymmetrical haircut. Skinny jeans, low boots, a knit cap. She looked, Jamie thought, a little like Sara.

"Well, hey," she said in a voice that managed to both be friendly and make Jamie nervous at the same time. Tegan and Sara both turned to face her and for a moment, their faces were twin expressions of somewhat dismayed surprise. The colour drained from Sara's lips and cheeks.

"Oh, hi. . ." Tegan said, switching to a false friendly mode, but her brow creased and she looked distinctly uncomfortable. Jamie's eyes hovered over her keyboard, frozen. She glanced at Ted, who raised his eyebrows. "What are you doing here?" Tegan asked in a forced friendly voice again.

"Well, I guess you're not talking to me now or answering my calls so I thought I would find you. . ." Jamie looked at the boys, wondering what they would do, whether they would leave or not. They were gathering up their stuff, talking to each other, but staying near. The three of them had somewhat dark expressions on their faces. If they stay, Jamie thought, I'm staying too.

"Yeah, I don't know," Tegan said, moving her capo from one fret to another. "I guess I didn't really think I needed to talk to you that much after you, you know, fucked my sister." The girl glanced at Sara, who looked ill. Sara awkwardly tried to maneuver her way to the door. "Oh, were you going somewhere?" Tegan asked her, and Sara stopped.

"Uh, I..." she started.

"Don't be so passive aggressive," the girl said. "You can leave her out of this."

"What was that? Oh, you're calling me passive aggressive? Well, allow me to retort," Tegan said, with a comic tone that made Johnny snort, involuntarily. The boys shushed him hurriedly and he reddened and looked away. Jamie didn't know whether this was funny or awful. Her stomach lurched and she wished that she'd had fruit salad for brunch instead.

"Tegan-" Sara started, reaching out a hand to touch Tegan's arm, but Tegan rolled her shoulder away from Sara's touch.

"No, you just wait," Tegan said, her voice rising, turning back to the girl. "What do you want? What are you doing here?"

"Well, I hadn't heard from you and I was worried and I thought we should talk. . ." the girl said, with a shrug, hands jammed into the pockets of her green military jacket.

"Talk about what?" Tegan asked. "About fucking my sister? Okay, let's talk about that."

"Okay, well," the girl said defensively. "You played a part in that, too-"

"Oh, I played a part in you being a fucking slut-"

"Tegan," Sara said again, her voice thick.

"Stop," Tegan said, one hand raised to halt Sara.

"Okay, so, I'm a slut because I slept with someone? _We weren't having sex_, Tegan. I mean, _I_ wasn't," she said suggestively.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Tegan asked incredulously.

"Well you were clearly _involved_ elsewhere. Why do you think I went looking for someone else -"

Jamie held her breath, glancing at Sara who was pale and looked like she might pass out.

"Because you're a fucking dirty slut, that's why!"

"No, Tegan," the girl said in a loud, slow, condescending voice. "Because for a change I wanted to fuck someone who wanted to fuck me too!" Tegan blinked.

"What?"

"You know, I don't know what goes on in that fucked up head of yours, but there's something _wrong_ with you, Tegan, there's something _missing_," the girl yelled, her tone pure derision. Jamie felt blood pounding in her ears.

"Something m. . . I think, maybe, that you're confused about that a little and actually that it's you who are missing something and what you are missing is a _conscience_," Tegan said, her voice escalating, her screaming thoughts tripping her up. The boys were staying deliberately close by, Jamie noted. Ted was subtly circling around to get closer to the angry girl, while Shaun and Johnny sorted through their gear, keeping an eye on Tegan and Sara. In case it gets violent? Jamie wondered.

"This is insane," Sara said, her voice trembling. "I'm going to go-."

"Oh right," the girl said sarcastically. "It's just like you to try to run away as soon as something gets a little tough." _Run run run_, Jamie thought, involuntarily.

"Don't fucking talk to her like that," Tegan said, shrill. The girl laughed once, mirthlessly. Jamie was instantly reminded of Ted's words: "_But just try fucking with one of them and see what the other one does. . ."_

"Oh, haha, God. Sara has said the same things about you-"

"Casey, please," Sara said, tensely.

"That's a really cheap tactic. Really tacky," Tegan said dismissively.

"Well, you know, I defended you. I said maybe you were just straight or. . . asexual or something, I don't know. A way to explain why you were interested in me for like ten seconds and then-"

"Oh, so whoever doesn't want to fuck you must be asexual?"

"This is so stupid," Sara said, anxiously.

"What was it you said, Sara? Remind me. Ummmm, 'if Tegan can't get her shit together, girls will just keep leaving her,' I think it was. And you know, she was right. You have to figure your shit out if you ever want a _normal_ relationship!"

Tegan stared at Casey and said nothing, a pause longer than Christopher Walken's in Pulp Fiction by what felt like a good twenty seconds. Her face was red, her eyes shiny.

"Normal," she said, flatly.

"Come on, Tegan," Sara said, a note of desperation in her voice that made Jamie's heart ache.

"No," Tegan said, pointing a finger at Sara's face for a moment, and then turning the same finger, slowly, to Casey. "You," she said, slowly, her voice low but shaking, "are a fucking. . . lying. . . cheating. . . _whore_," she finished, with a bitter laugh. "So you can fuck whoever you want! Maybe you two. . ." Tegan gestured to Casey and a very pale Sara, "can fuck each other, how does that sound?"

"Tegan, it wasn't-"

"And you," Tegan said, leveling her finger again at Sara. Sara didn't say a word or make a move as Tegan just stared at her for a moment, failing to hide the pain in her face, "break my fucking heart." Sara's mouth dropped open, and panic washed over her face.

"Tegan, I didn't-" she said, her voice little more than a whisper. She took half a step forward and reached out for Tegan, who pulled back, violently, swinging the guitar strap off of her neck.

"Don't you _fucking touch me_! I'm not _normal_, remember!" she shouted as the tears spilled over at last. With a sharp exclamation of _fuck!_ she threw the guitar on the floor and ran out the door. Sara, a hand over her mouth, followed.

"Sara-" Casey started.

"No," Sara said angrily, pushing past her.

"Uh," Casey said, a shocked look on her face as she glanced at Jamie and the boys. "Fuck," she said, starting in the direction that the twins had gone. Jamie quickly stood and grabbed the girl's jacket.

"No, leave them alone," she said, shaking her head. The girl looked at Jamie, as if seeing her for the first time, pulled her arm free, and hurried off in the other direction.

Jamie watched her turn and run off, and looked at Ted.

"Do you think. . ." she started, hesitantly.

"We should follow them," Ted said, knowingly or unknowingly finishing Jamie's thought. "We're just going to check on them," Ted said to Shaun.

"Okay, we're scheduled to leave in twenty minutes. I'll hold the crew," Shaun said.

"I guess we could just go on the road without the girls," Johnny said. "We're the real draw."

"And without the girls, there'd be fewer insane chicks backstage. . ." they heard Shaun say thoughtfully as they stepped out into the damp night air.

"This way, I think," Jamie said, leading them. There was an ache in her heart that she was just starting to understand. The look on Tegan's face when she said _normal_. . . Jamie didn't want to see that look on her face again.

"That girl is. . ."

"She's just a bad idea," Ted said.

"I wanted to punch her," Jamie said.

"Ha!" Ted laughed grimly. "I wish you had. I can't do it, but it's fine for chicks to hit each other. Just look at Tegan's nose. . ." They joked, but they were both tense. They walked quickly, through the alley and out to the main road and looked both ways and saw no sign of the twins.

"Haha, yeah. To be fair to Sara, she _did_ have a jacket over her face when it happened. She was just kind of flailing around."

"And she _does_ have a brown belt in karate, so. . ."

"Good thing it isn't a black belt," Jamie said.

"Seriously. God, that must have been an intense thing for you to see. I mean, we've seen some fights but. . ."

"Yeah, it was," Jamie recalled. "I didn't know what the fuck to do. I thought they were going to seriously hurt each other. Where the hell did they go, anyway. . ."

This part of town was a little run down, poorly lit, with a few sketchy looking clubs, a couple of weekly hotels, and not much else. They passed a homeless guy whose hair had become one giant dreadlock that resembled the trunk of an elephant. As they passed, he gave them a toothless grin.

"Spare some change?" he growled in his gravelly voice.

"Sorry," Ted said.

"Fucker," the man said after them as they continued on. "I'll fucking cut you, you fuckers," he muttered, and continued muttering as they walked.

"Nice," Jamie said.

"Yeah, I don't really want to leave them alone out here," Ted said anxiously. "They're like the size of garden gnomes." Jamie chuckled, and felt a rush of affection for Ted, for his love, and obvious loyalty to the girls.

They finally saw them, two small figures in the distance. Tegan was cutting diagonally across a Safeway parking lot, head down, hands in pockets, while Sara rushed after her through the amber glow of the lamp standards.

"There," Ted said as they crossed the street, and followed them across the parking lot. Tegan turned a little as Sara grabbed at the sleeve of her jacket.

"Come on!" they heard the tense, exasperated voice of Sara. "You're just going to listen to her and not to me?"

"What are you going to say, Sara? Tell me about how I'm not normal and there's something missing-"

"I didn't say that! That wasn't at all what I said. Casey said that," Sara said stridently.

"Oh, what was it you said? Girls will keep leaving me if I don't get my shit together? _Like who?_" Tegan asked intensely, stopping short and spinning around to face Sara, her face shining with tears. They were standing in the middle of the parking lot now, at what Jamie thought was a polite distance, and Jamie suddenly felt a light dusting of panic.

"Um, Ted," she said quickly, taking his arm and coming around in front of him, uncertainly, nervously. It was a reflex to protect their privacy and she didn't know how to accomplish it. "Maybe we should give them a little privacy?"

"Yeah," he said as uncertain as Jamie was, looking around Jamie to keep an eye on them. "The bus leaves in ten minutes though."

"Yeah but. . . they're. . . uh. . ." Jamie was stuck. Ted looked her in the eye.

"It's okay, Jamie."

"But. . ."

"I know," he said, and Jamie looked at him, wide-eyed, reading his expression. He nodded. She put her hand over her mouth. She looked over at them again as Tegan's voice reached them, and the edge of pain in it cut through the conversation Jamie was having with Ted, and through Jamie's heart as well.

"Because, Sara, she didn't know what you _really_ meant!"

"Neither do you, or you wouldn't be acting like this-" Sara said, her voice laced with desperation.

Jamie looked from Ted's face to the fight in the distance. _He knew. Wow._

"Do they. . ." she started, walking out onto the minefield tentatively.

"They don't know I know," he said quietly, taking Jamie's arm. "You're right, let's hang back a bit. . ."

They slowly moved away from them, with some reluctance. Ted looked back over his shoulder at them.

"They don't know? You're like a brother to them," Jamie said.

"Maybe that's why I keep it from them," he said with a shrug. "I don't know how they'd feel if they knew that I know. . . God, this is getting confusing," he laughed. "So, pretending I don't know is how I protect them." Jamie battled momentarily with a powerful urge to hug him.

"Do the other guys know?"

"I don't think so," Ted said.

"How did you find out?"

"Well-" he started. "Oh shit."

"But _no_!" Tegan shouted, hysterically, her voice cracking. "You fucked her! And last night you. . . _God!_" Tegan pressed her hands against her black eyes.

"Tegan, that has nothing to do with it! Those things have nothing to do with each other-"

"Don't try to fucking do that! They have everything to do with each other-"

"Come on, let's just go around the corner for a second. . . " Jamie said, and Ted followed. "God, this is terrible. . ." Jamie said, thinking about what she had heard from her bunk the night before. From that to this in less than twenty-four hours? "Is there anything we can do, even?" she asked him when they were out of sight around the edge of the building. Ted shook his head, shrugged helplessly.

"But it's fucked up! It's all fucked up and I can't take it!" Tegan wailed. There was a pause, and Jamie and Ted looked at each other, listening, their worry mirroring each other's.

"There was nothing fucked up about. . . last night," Sara said.

"Then why did you do it? She's just. . . _nothing_ and you chose to. . . God, I can't even. . ."

"That was weeks ago-"

"_Weeks?_"

"I was upset about Emy and I was drunk and . . . it was a fucked up thing to-"

"Oh, yeah? So you fuck up when you're drunk?" Tegan said angrily.

"That's not fair," Sara said.

"Twenty-eight years, Sara" Tegan said. "That's us."

"Tegan, that's. . . nobody else can possibly understand that," Sara said.

"You should have," Tegan said bitterly.

"I do. . ." A pause, as Jamie and Ted stood close together, holding their collective breath. "To say that I love you doesn't even, like, it's not even-"

"But I'm not _normal_, Sara," Tegan said, her voice thick with bitterness. "There's something _missing_ from me."

"Tegan, wait!" Sara called after her.

"Fuck off," Tegan shot back.

"Go with her," Ted said to Jamie, who wordlessly ran off in Tegan's direction. Jamie ran past Sara, who just stared at the ground where Tegan had been standing. Jamie took a quick look back and saw Ted put his arms around Sara. Satisfied, Jamie followed Tegan.

"Tegan, wait," Jamie called after her, jogging a little to catch up. She reached Tegan's side and matched her stride for a moment. "Hey, slow down," Jamie said gently, and Tegan stopped walking, her eyes still on the ground in front of her, tears sliding unchecked down her cheeks and dripping off of her chin. Now, Jamie realized, was the awkward moment where Tegan would wonder what Jamie had heard, what Jamie suspected. The argument about a cheating girlfriend was reason enough for Tegan to be upset, though. No need to push anything out into the open.

"I'm sorry," Jamie said to her, feeling helpless.

"Thanks," Tegan replied, her voice taut, her face streaming with tears.

"Do you want to. . . " Jamie began, uncertainly. "Can I. . . um. . . Is there anything I can do?" There was no movement at all from Tegan. She stood, hands in pockets, her red eyes on the ground, frozen.

"No, I'm fine," she replied, her voice as placid as the voice of an automated phone directory.

"You're shaking," Jamie pointed out gently.

"No I'm not," Tegan said, shaking.

"You are," Jamie said.

"I don't think I am," Tegan said. Jamie looked at her, small and broken.

"I understand if you want to be alone, but. . . it's kind of sketchy around here," Jamie said. Tegan, still immobile.

"I don't. . ." she said in that same flat tone, "want to be alone."

"Okay," Jamie said. "Let's go back to the bus." Tegan nodded, but didn't move. After a moment, Jamie tentatively turned Tegan's shoulders, directing her. After a moment, Tegan lifted one foot, and then another.

They walked back to the bus in silence.


	9. I Put Your Head on Straight

**Chapter 9: I Put Your Head on Straight, Tied My Tourniquet**

Jamie couldn't decide what was worse: when they fought, or when they didn't speak at all. They had two more shows following the blowout in the Safeway parking lot; there was next to no interaction between the girls on stage, and nothing at all offstage.

The next day, in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Jamie was up front filming as, half way through "Dark Come Soon," Tegan's voice faltered, then failed. She turned her back to the crowd as Sara continued on, singing backup as though nothing was amiss, as though the song was designed that way, for its heart to fail and its mind to go on, regardless, because it had no other option. The show, up to that point, had been tense and humourless. They played the songs with very little conversation between them, rarely glancing at each other. The boys were solid and reliable like always, but Jamie, who was familiar with their good natured participation with everything, their laughter and smiles in the background, could see that they were as worried as she was. The audience, also, looked as bewildered as Jamie felt, and a concerned hush went through the crowd as they realized Tegan was crying. So many times, Jamie had wished they would all just _be quiet_ through key points of the show, but at that moment she desperately wished they would all keep talking and ignore what was unfolding on the stage. Tegan and Sara had cut a lot of songs from the playlist before going on, and standing in front of the crowd, straining to look at the single sheet of paper with bold lines drawn through the titles, Jamie thought: _they're all about Sara. _If Tegan couldn't get through all of "Dark Come Soon," Jamie didn't know how she could possibly get through "Divided."

Despite the chilly conditions existing between the twins, Jamie found herself sharing hotel rooms with the two of them for the last few nights. As Jamie overheard Sara say to Johnny when he asked, _just because we're not talking doesn't suddenly make us thousands of dollars richer. _So the three of them went on sharing a room, wordlessly, in a way that allowed for a minimum of interaction. One night, in St. John's, Jamie was uploading video to her hard drive as Sara quietly sorted through her luggage. After a noticeably long time in the bathroom, Tegan emerged with red eyes and asked Jamie if she could share her bed. Jamie looked up at Tegan's pained face, wishing desperately that she could hug her, say something to ease her suffering, to let Tegan know that she _knew_. But she couldn't, and said simply, "of course." She lay in bed that night next to Tegan, too agitated to sleep. Tegan was restless, kicking her blankets off, twisting herself up in the sheets, heaving an anguished sigh. Jamie lay still, thinking over everything that had happened since the night they had found her in the alley. In the beginning, the primary thought that nagged her brain was _they're sisters; they can't be together! _But now, after seeing and hearing all that she had, her only thought was: _they're in love; it's wrong that they have to be apart._ It had gone from a shocking sex scandal to a tragic love story in a matter of months. _No, _she thought to herself, recalling what had happened the night on the bus, _in a matter of moments. _Sara didn't make a sound in response to Tegan's decision to sleep in Jamie's bed, but when Jamie got up late at night to go to the bathroom, she saw Sara lying on her back, eyes open, immobile, staring straight up at the ceiling.

But things, she realized, never really were as simple as they seemed from the outside. After the show in Halifax where Tegan's tears had interrupted "Dark Come Soon," Jamie had gone out behind the venue to grab something from the bus when she first heard and then saw Sara, crouched down between two dumpsters with her face in her hands, her small body shaking as she sobbed uncontrollably. Jamie hesitated; it didn't compute, at first; Tegan was the one who cried. Jamie didn't know what to do. Sara must have chosen this location in order to hide. She certainly hadn't chosen it for the smell. Jamie wanted to go to her but there was - had always been - something about Sara that discouraged affectionate gestures. Jamie wondered if her own affection for Tegan was a factor in that equation. Tegan had left the stage in tears while Sara stoically finished the song without her and then found a dark and quiet place to cry, unobserved. Jamie respected the impulse for privacy, and left her alone.

As for why they weren't talking, they made no explanation to anyone. The boys chatted amongst themselves, tried to keep spirits up, gently involved the girls in whatever they did, but always quickly and smoothly moved on when they got no response. The boys showed, also, more concern for Jamie, who was obviously caught in the middle of the very cold relations between Tegan and Sara but couldn't do anything about it. And the whole thing had solidified the bond between Jamie and Ted; neither of them had anyone to talk to about this and it was a complicated, heavy load to carry alone.

Jamie was in a frozen yogurt shop with Ted on what was the last night of that leg of the tour, to everyone's relief. Ted wasn't in the mood for a loud bar full of drunks that night, and Jamie never was. The girls, now in the third day of their personal cold war, didn't have the energy to do anything except sleep or read alone in their bunks. And Jamie was happy for a chance to talk to Ted alone.

"So," Jamie started, looking from her yogurt cup to Ted's. She had a single scoop of raspberry; he had three different flavours with cherries, whipped cream, gummy worms and chocolate sprinkles. "So what are you, Ted? Seven?" Ted laughed.

"Wanna try some?" he offered.

"No. Okay, yes," she admitted. "But I don't need the gummy worms."

"Come on. They're like the cherry on top," Ted said.

"No, they're not. I just took your cherry," Jamie replied guilelessly.

"Haha. God, I feel so close to you now." Jamie snorted. They ate their yogurt in a comfortable silence for a moment.

"So, intense times, huh? It's good timing for the break," Ted said.

"Yeah. Three days ago would have been better timing, though," Jamie pointed out. Ted nodded, chewing on a gummy worm.

"Yeah, and if I ever see that fucking Casey chick again, I'm going to push her down a flight of stairs."

"Even though she's a girl?" Jamie asked him wryly.

"Yeah, even though."

"What if there are no stairs to push her down?" Jamie wondered, pressing her hand to her forehead as the icy cold from a too-large bite of yogurt spread through her soft palate and straight into her sinuses. "Ack, brain freeze."

"If there are no stairs, I'll just have to stab her instead," he said.

"Well, crossing my fingers for no stairs then," Jamie said, quickly glancing over at two girls who had just come in, and then back at Ted.

"What was that?" he asked, curious.

"What?"

"That look. You just checked those two girls out," Ted said quietly, leaning over the table, closer to Jamie.

"I _scanned _them. I didn't check them out," Jamie corrected.

"Do you think they're a couple?" he asked. Jamie nodded, licking her spoon.

"Absolutely," she said. "Guaranteed."

"Guaranteed?" Ted asked, eyebrows raised. "They look so girly." Jamie looked at him patiently and said nothing.

"I mean, how do you know?" he asked, laughing at Jamie's dry expression.

"I just do. Body language," she said, shrugging. Ted looked at her. "Well, see how the one put her hand on the other's lower back when they leaned in to look at the menu on the counter? Friends wouldn't do that."

"Are they cute?" he asked, and Jamie wanted to laugh at his earnest excitement. Ted toured two hundred days a year with lesbians and yet he was so excited to ask Jamie these questions.

"Haha, I don't know. I wouldn't usually be attracted to girls like that," she explained.

"Oh? What kind of girls would you _usually _be attracted to?" Ted asked. _Tegan, _Jamie thought.

"Well, not usually someone so femmey," Jamie said instead.

"If I were a lesbian," Ted started thoughtfully, "I'd be attracted to girls like that." Jamie laughed.

"Haha, maybe if you were a straight man you'd be attracted to girls like that.

Wanna try mine?" she offered, and Ted dipped his spoon into Jamie's cup. "So. . ." she said, curiosity hanging over after her unanswered question in the Safeway parking lot several nights prior, " how did you find out? About. . ." she started and then stopped, realizing she didn't need to be any more explicit than that. Ted scooped a glob of whipped cream with a finger and licked it off with great relish.

"Uh, well. . ." he started, leaning back in his chair and looking up, thinking. _Not thinking of the answer, _Jamie thought, _but whether or not he can answer at all. _Jamie watched his face, waiting for the moment when he decided that he could trust her. "We were parked that night and I couldn't sleep," he started slowly, "so I got up and went for a walk up the street and saw them standing in the middle of a little city park. At first I was going to call out to them and then I saw Tegan just. . . kiss Sara, really intensely. . . and I just turned and went the long way back to the bus!" He laughed.

"Wow," Jamie said. They looked at each other. _How does he feel? _Jamie wondered. _Does it confuse him, too?_ "God, what did you think?" she asked him, scraping the bottom of her yogurt cup.

"Well, at first. . ." he started thoughtfully. "It was shocking, I guess. _Really_ shocking. I mean, I'd known them for years, and just. . . how do you see _that_ coming? But after a while I just kind of realized that. . . it has to be that way." Jamie watched him as he finished his yogurt. Every time he opened his mouth, she liked him more. "How about you?" he asked. Jamie hesitated, too, with the propriety of telling the truth. She wanted to share with him; she wanted to protect them. He obviously loved them, too, though, and she decided that no pain could come from talking to Ted.

"Uh, that first night in the hotel, when I was drugged. . ." she started. "I woke up in the night and they were. . . in bed. . . together," she finished more awkwardly than she had started. Ted looked at her, surprised.

"Holy shit," he said. She nodded.

"Yeah," she said. They sat quietly for a moment, reflecting on that, licking their spoons, before Ted spoke.

"That's kind of hot," he said suddenly, with a conspiratorial grin.

"_Kind _of?" Jamie asked incredulously, and they both laughed.

"Sara!" Ted suddenly exclaimed, gesturing over Jamie's shoulder. Jamie turned to see Sara passing by the windows, earphones in. She stopped and looked at the menu on the door for a moment, and Ted gestured to get her attention. "She looks really fucking sad," Ted mused.

"I'll go get her," Jamie said, going to the door and opening it. Sara met her eyes, surprised.

"Oh, hey, Jamie. . ." She sounded tired; she looked tired. "I was just like, foraging. . ."

"Have yogurt with us," Ted suggested.

"Well, I was kind of looking for some actual food-type food. Substantial food. Something comforting and really bad for my heart." Ted and Jamie smiled, but Sara didn't. "And beer," Sara added, as an afterthought. "Lots of beer."

"We'll have a beer with you. Won't we, Jamie?" Ted said, meeting Jamie's eye. Sara looked from Ted to Jamie.

"Jamie doesn't drink," Sara said in a monotone.

"It's a figure of speech," Ted said, nudging Sara as Jamie opened the door and held it for them, giving Ted a nervous half-smile..

They found a little dive a few blocks away and sat at a booth by the window.

"You guys just had yogurt and now you're going to have dinner?" Sara asked as they looked through the greasy menus.

"Yep. Today is Backwards Day," Ted said. "Ooooh, Sara, you said you wanted something bad for your heart. They have poutine."

"Not just poutine," Jamie pointed out. "Poutine with bacon on it."

"Yeah, that's what I need. Starch, fried in fat, topped with curdled fat," Sara said.

"Covered in sauce made from fat," Jamie added.

"Yep, and garnished with meat that is like, ninety three per cent fat," Ted concluded.

"Right. I need that. And beer. A lot of beer. All the beer."

They ordered Sara's heart attack on a plate, and Ted agreed to share a pitcher of lager with her. Jamie and Ted got an assortment of appetizers to share. They made small talk for a bit while they waited. Sara was very subdued. She didn't smile. Ted and Jamie both tried to sustain a cheerful, easy conversation, to try to encourage her to talk, but she was barely more than monosyllabic, and Jamie couldn't really blame her.

The waitress brought a Coke for Jamie and the pitcher for Sara and Ted. Sara's silence was making Jamie feel awkward; she continued looking at the menu, even though they'd already ordered, until Ted spoke.

"Who does that waitress remind you of?" he asked in a low voice after the waitress had moved on. Jamie ooked at her, pondered. "I seriously can't figure it out but she's. . ." Ted's voice trailed off. Sara took a quick look and looked back at her beer; Jamie looked for a longer while, her brow furrowed.

"Yeah, she reminds me of someone too but-"

"Casey," Sara said, looking down at the table with a sigh. "She reminds you of Casey."

"Oh, yeah, that's totally it. . ." Ted said with a slight wince at Jamie, who bit her lip.

Food came; Ted and Jamie managed to keep Sara somewhat engaged in conversation, although barely. Ted and Sara worked their way through one pitcher, and started on another, which was likely what enabled Ted to broach the subject that was on everyone's mind, but which everyone was skirting around like a mess on the carpet. Halfway through their third pitcher - and Jamie's third Coke, and a plate of nachos, and some wings - Ted leaned forward, met Sara's eyes.

"It really sucks to see you so upset like this," he said. Jamie was surprised, but glad he was able to say it because she was unprepared to. Sara finished her glass and looked at him, unsmiling, and then back to the beer coaster she had been mutilating for half the night. "I mean, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"Yeah, well. . . fighting with Tegan. . ." Sara started, and then shrugged dismissively, but Jamie could see the falseness all over that; a dismissive shrug and a slightly trembling lower lip. Lips trumped shoulders in every contest. "Fighting with Tegan makes me upset."

They all sat, marinating in that truth, for a moment.

"Awww, Sara," Ted began, affectionately. "You guys fight and then it's always fine again in a day or two." Jamie watched him curiously, wondering what he was doing. Clearly, he wanted to cheer Sara up, but he knew that this situation was not just a fight between sisters. Jamie could think of no encouragement, no commiseration to make with Sara that would feel both helpful and truthful. She picked at the cold remnants of the nachos on the plate and said nothing.

"Yeah," Sara began, tearing tiny pieces off the edge of the coaster and setting them on the table in a row. "But this time it's. . ." _Different_, Jamie wanted her to say. _This time it's different. I fucked someone and broke my sister's heart. And that whole equation doesn't compute._ "It's different," Sara concluded, articulating half of Jamie's thought.

"How is it different?" Ted asked, and Jamie managed to give him a very quick _what are you doing_ look, which he returned with a calm expression. Sara pushed some soggy fries and congealed gravy around on her plate listlessly.

"Well, I guess I made it different when I fucked Tegan's girlfriend in like, the same bed. . ." Jamie held her breath for a moment, anxious about the over-sharing mood that the beer appeared to have put Sara in, anxious about the game Ted was playing. Was he just saying things that someone might say if they didn't know what was going on? Ted seemed to redden slightly over the unexpectedly blunt reply from Sara, but that could have just been the beer. Jamie, however, was starting to feel a little jittery from all the sugar and caffeine, which did nothing at all for her own inhibitions.

"Well. . ." Ted began. "Yeah, I guess that is worse than a typical sister fight. . ." Jamie gave him another quizzical look, and he returned her look, somewhat helplessly.

"She hates me," Sara said weakly, eyes on her hands as they slowly tore chunks off of the coaster. Jamie noted that she and Tegan both indulged in these nervous ticks when they had difficult conversations. Jamie stopped biting her thumb nail and spoke suddenly.

"She doesn't hate you," Jamie said. "She never will. She never _could_." There was some silence around those words. Ted raised his eyebrows, as impressed as he was when she had offered "The Italian Job" for best car chase scene. Sara sighed a little, and bit at a little bit of chapped skin on her occasionally quivering lower lip. She blinked a lot.

"I really fucked up," Sara said at last, her voice a little shaky, struggling. She leaned her head on one hand. _How can we make her feel better about this when it's kind of true?_ Jamie asked herself.

"Maybe, like. . . after she has a chance to calm down, a little? Maybe then you can talk about it. . .?" Jamie suggested gently, and Sara shook her head, not looking up.

"What can I, like. . . say. . . that can like, negate the fact that I cheated- I mean, that I. . . like. . . betrayed. . ." Sara stammered, feeling her slip, her face tense. Jamie's heart did a little jump. "I mean, like, it's not like I can say, like, 'yes, I let your girlfriend go down on me but I'm sure it didn't mean anything to her. . . I mean. . . yeah, maybe she thought I was you!" Sara said, the beer loosening her tongue. She leaned back against her seat, her head back a little, and looked up at the ceiling, blinking. Jamie would have found the twin joke slightly amusing if Sara was not looking like she was about to cry. Jamie was struck by a quick mental image of Sara on her back, knees bent, clutching a pillow behind her head as Casey's lips worked their way down Sara's inner thigh. She quickly pushed the image out of her mind. After a moment, Sara stood up. "I have to pee," she said, still a little shaky, and went off.

Jamie looked at Ted and shook her head, eyebrows raised.

"Wow," Ted said, reading her expression.

"Right?" Jamie said. "I think she's-" Sara's cell phone, on the table, buzzed; Ted glanced at the screen, but Jamie could see it clearly from where she sat. It was a message from Tegan: "So was it good? Did she go down on you? She has a good mouth, doesn't she? Hope u got what you needed from her since you obviously weren't getting it from me. xxx." Jamie's stomach dropped.

"Holy fuck," Ted breathed. After a moment, the screen went dark again, and then Sara was back, looking a little unsteady. Jamie looked up at her, at her reddish eyes, reddish nose. She looked like she'd been crying in the bathroom. Jamie felt an ache, just looking at her, and she spoke.

"Sara, maybe this is like. . . not helpful or whatever but. . . remember when Tegan said. . .'I'll forgive you. . . all you have to do is be sorry?" Jamie started, surprising herself. Ted gave her another surprised look and Sara met her eyes, intensely. Her mouth opened a little, and Jamie, afraid she'd made a mistake, started to back pedal. "I don't mean-"

"Fuck, you're right," Sara said, dumbstruck.

"No, it was just a thought, I mean-"

"No, I mean it. I didn't. I didn't apologize," Sara said, her surprise over this realization like a slap in the face. She shook her head. "I didn't. I never do. I never apologize. Holy fuck. I've like. . . it's like, I'm twenty-eight years old and I just like. . . I needed someone else to like. . . fucking. . . point that out." They watched her amazement, for a moment. Jamie's pulse raced. "I fucked everything up and I didn't even say I was sorry. And, Tegan like. . . like you said, she fucking even _told_ me she would forgive me and like. . ." Sara's words dropped off and failed, as she looked back up at the ceiling for a moment and then, suddenly, grabbed her phone. "I have to do that. I have to say I'm sorry and-" she clicked her phone to life and there was the message from Tegan. "So was it good? Did she go down on you? She has a good mouth, doesn't she? Hope u got what you needed from her since you obviously weren't getting it from me. xxx." Jamie had snakes in her stomach as she saw Sara's face as Sara took in those words, her brain a little hazy but still needing only a moment to process it. "Um, actually I think I'll just go," Sara said quickly, shakily, but the tears spilled over more quickly than she was able to grab her jacket and get up. "I'll see you guys on the bus-"

"Sara, it's okay," Ted said, quickly taking hold of Sara's sleeve as she started to walk away. "Come on, sit here with us. You can cry if you need to, it's fine," he said, as she angrily wiped her eyes on her jacket sleeve, taking a breath. She clenched her jaw, tried to assume a stony look. "Don't do that," Ted said. "You don't need to play that person with us. We know you better than that. We're your friends. . . we love you." Jamie was right then torn between which one of them she wanted to hug more.

"Yeah, don't go off alone like this," Jamie said. "You're drunk and upset . . stay with us." Sara was half-turned away from them, to hide her tears.

"No. . . thanks though. I've, um, I've gotta go. . ." Sara mumbled, tearfully, pulling her sleeve from Ted's grip. She left quickly, her head down, and as she rushed past the window outside of their booth, Jamie saw her face twist. She hurried out of sight.

...

The following morning, Jamie had just gotten off the phone with her mother, who was indignant that Jamie was abandoning essentially a full year of university to go on tour with a band, and had spent the last twenty minutes berating her until she hung up the phone.

"God, mom," she moaned, throwing her phone into her open suitcase and sitting down on the bed heavily. She couldn't, wouldn't, go home under those circumstances. She put her face in her hands and started running through a list in her mind of friends that she could stay with back in DC instead, when Tegan's voice called her back to the present.

"Still pissed?" Tegan asked her, wrapping a pair of sneakers in a plastic bag and tucking them away in her big black suitcase. Jamie sighed, nodding. "She's always _loved _you guys, especially since that time I skipped my brother's graduation to go to a few shows. . ." Jamie blushed self-consciously and trailed off. Tegan smiled, didn't look up from her packing.

"Not going home then?" Tegan asked, and Jamie just shook her head. "Come to Vancouver with me, then. We have like. . . what. . . sixty thousand hours of footage to edit?" Jamie looked up at Tegan's tired, sad face. There was a vertical crease between her eyebrows almost all the time now, and Jamie had to stop herself from reaching out a hand to smooth that crease out with her fingers.

"Uh, yeah, about five hundred hours, actually. . ."

"Well, come on then. You can't go home, and I bought a ticket for you anyway so. . . I mean, I could use the company." Tegan shrugged, swinging the lid closed and clicking it shut. Jamie's heart accelerated. _Tegan invited me to her house. Did Tegan really just invite me to her house?_

"Okay," Jamie said, her shyness with Tegan seemingly never going away. "Okay, yeah. . . thanks."

"It'll probably rain the whole time. . ." Tegan mused distractedly. _As if I care about the weather, _Jamie thought.

Sara came in, jacket on, grabbed her suitcase handle without looking at either of them.

"Airport taxi is here," she said in a monotone. Tegan and Jamie followed her out into the parking lot, the atmosphere between them keeping everyone quiet. The ride to the airport was just as silent. Jamie wondered whether they would even say goodbye before heading off to their separate flights.

At the domestic departures lounge, they all checked their bags and then, tensely, heavily, they converged in the open space in front of the security check. Tegan stood with her hands in her pockets, head down, her shoulders hunched. Sara looked pale, drawn, exhausted.

"Well," Tegan said, fake-fine. "See you in two weeks," and started to turn.

"Tegan," Sara said, and Tegan stopped but didn't turn back to face her. Jamie, heart clenching, turned away, walked a few steps further off and earnestly pretended to check her cell phone. "I know this is my fault," Sara said. "And I'm sorry. . ." Tegan said nothing, but Jamie saw, from the corner of her eye, that her posture had not changed. "But," Sara went on in a voice that was struggling to remain even, "this can't. . . go on." Jamie saw Tegan turn her head to Sara, open her mouth to speak, and then close it again. She closed her eyes, shook her head. And in a low voice that Jamie could barely make out, "this is _killing you. . ."_ Tegan gave a short, pained laugh.

"Don't you worry about _me, _Sara," Tegan said, her voice dripping with bitterness.

"It's killing me, too," she said quietly. Tegan looked up to her face, almost surprised. "And it's. . . just. . . wrong," she added, her voice low. Tegan's face reddened and she bit her lip.

"Tegan, you know I'm right-" Sara said, urgently, desperate to be understood, hopeless.

"Yeah, you always are. Have a nice vacation," Tegan concluded, turning her back on Sara and walking away. Jamie went to follow, stopping momentarily next to Sara. She never knew how to comfort Sara, but Sara's face looked like someone had just slapped her.

"Sara," she began uncertainly, pausing next to Sara, who looked up at the ceiling for a moment, blinking. She wanted to say something but was at a loss.

"Take care of Tegan for me, okay?" she said quickly, grabbed the handle of her suitcase and hurried off in the other direction with her head down.

"Okay," Jamie said heavily to the empty space where Sara had been, and followed Tegan through the security gates, feeling as if the organ thieves had already taken her heart.


	10. You Want the Marrying Type, a Commitment

**Chapter 10: You Want the Marrying Type, a Commitment**

It was a quiet flight. In the five hours of space between Toronto and Vancouver, Tegan slept - or appeared to sleep - for about three. Jamie, normally a good sleeper, still couldn't settle her agitated mind enough to sleep, given the fact that she was heading towards two weeks with Tegan - who was more depressed and distraught than Jamie had ever seen her - alone. The silence was not strained; neither one of them, it seemed, felt compelled to fill it with mindless chatter, which was a relief to Jamie. But Tegan was a talker, and when Tegan was silent, Jamie couldn't help but feel uneasy. Somewhere over the flat expanse of Saskatchewan, Tegan started chewing on her fingernails and Jamie, somewhat hypocritically, gently pulled Tegan's hand away from her mouth. Tegan said nothing, but stopped biting her nails and looked away as Jamie took a glance at her own distressed cuticles.

They took a taxi from the airport to Tegan's apartment. Tegan half-heartedly pointed out the sights to Jamie, who had seen them before, on two separate occasions, for two separate shows. _You don't have to entertain me, _Jamie wanted to say. Jamie, who had always had difficulty maintaining eye contact with Tegan, now found it even harder to look her in the eye, the way she found it hard to watch a fish twitch and flop in the bottom of a boat. It was painful to watch.

"And this," Tegan said, pointing out the window, "is where you go if you want to buy meth." Jamie looked out the window at an assortment of bedraggled people, toothless in some cases, sallow, erratic. She thought of tiny Tegan walking past these people every day on her way to the bus.

"I'll mark that on my map," she said, and Tegan chuckled.

A moment later, they were setting their bags down next to Tegan's kitchen. _Tegan's apartment, _Jamie thought, disbelief washing over her. _My life. Not real._

Tegan showed Jamie to the guest bedroom; showed her the bathroom, the kitchen, the food in the cupboards. She was trying too hard to be fine, and it was an obvious struggle.

"So, what do you want to do while you're in Vancougar?" Tegan asked, gazing forlornly at the bleak contents of her fridge. "Want something to drink? I've got. . . um. . . mustard and, uh. . . soy sauce. . ." Tegan said wryly, and Jamie laughed.

"As refreshing as that sounds. . ."

"Beer?"

"I think I prefer mustard," she said.

"Haha, oh, I have Orangina."

"That sounds good," Jamie said, and Tegan handed her the bottle, kicked her sneakers off in dramatic fashion, and flopped onto the couch heavily.

"Ugh," Tegan groaned. "Is it bedtime?" Jamie took a sip of her fizzy drink, checked the clock on the stove.

"Well, it's after midnight in Toronto so. . ." Jamie finished her drink, went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash the airplane off of her face, and when she came back, Tegan was asleep, face down on the sofa. Jamie fetched a blanket from the foot of her bed and gently covered Tegan with it. From Tegan's balcony, she could see the harbour with its huge orange cranes that looked like skinny metal giraffes. It was raining and silent and she was homesick for a place that didn't really exist. She went to bed before 9:30 Vancouver time.

The next day, they surprised themselves by getting up early and starting in on the editing. There were hours and hours of footage to go through. Tegan was still not in the mood to do much of anything else, and Jamie was only in the mood to be with Tegan, so they stayed in Tegan's condo, sitting at an old wooden table in front of her iMac, and watched countless clips of shows, backstage antics, moments on the bus. They discussed the material, but little more; it seemed like the weight of a smile was more than Tegan's face could bear.

Jamie clicked open another video file and it started playing. Tegan was telling a funny story about what people do when they get out of a five year relationship, and Sara interjected more than once to tease Tegan about doing a DJ set in San Francisco. They were funny, charming; their banter was easy and the chemistry between them was so obvious to Jamie now that she knew the truth. Tegan gave a short laugh at one of Sara's comments which turned into a sigh. She sat with her chair close to Jamie's, holding her chin up with one hand, elbow on the table touching Jamie's arm and, as always, making Jamie's pulse quicken. After a moment, Tegan put her hand over Jamie's mouse hand, and clicked the video off.

"Pick another one. . ." she said quietly, and Jamie did, clicking on the next link in the list. They watched the whole of the song quietly; Sara was singing "Not Tonight," and Jamie had brought the shot in close to her face as she sang. Tegan's harmonies in the background gave Jamie shivers, but the focus was on Sara, her bangs falling over one eye, both eyes closed, her silhouette eclipsing the indigo light behind her.

_What will bring me home. . ._ Sara sang as they watched. _What will make me stay, stay. . ._

"Wow, she's really beautiful," Jamie said, forgetting herself for a moment. She heard the slightest sigh from Tegan, and then a light laugh.

"Thanks," she said cheekily. Jamie looked at Tegan with a grin, and Tegan shrugged, chin still resting in her hand. "Twins," she explained unnecessarily, and Jamie nodded. They watched the rest of the song and the banter that followed. When Sara talked about how there was no one she would rather share a face with than her sister, Tegan got up silently and went to the bedroom.

Jamie continued with her work. There was a lot of good material from the shows, funny interviews with the boys, some good moments with fans. She worked for another hour with no sign of Tegan. She couldn't really make any big decisions about the footage without Tegan, though, so after that hour, worried, she decided to check on her. She got up from the computer and quietly padded barefoot across the hallway towards Tegan's bedroom door, which stood halfway open. She peered around the edge of the door into the stillness within.

"Tegan?" Jamie spoke, tentatively, into the quiet room. Jamie made out Tegan's shape, as she lay, curled up, facing the door, clutching a pillow to her face. She was shaking, and obviously trying not to. Jamie approached the bed, and, after hesitating for a moment, sat on the edge. _What can I say? _she asked herself. _There's nothing I can do to make this better, but I can't just do nothing, either. _"Hey. . ." Jamie said softly, touching Tegan's shoulder. "It's going to be okay. . ." she said, hating the words but at a loss for anything better. Tegan, her face covered by the pillow, continued to shake, struggling to contain it. Jamie sat by helplessly for a few minutes, awkwardly rubbing Tegan's arm, before deciding that she didn't belong. All she could do was deliver kind platitudes, comforting cliches that meant nothing, and, for all she knew, might not even be true. Tegan didn't need someone telling her she'd be fine without Sara; she needed Sara. Jamie was in the midst of standing when Tegan reached out one hand and caught her wrist.

"Wait . ." Tegan started, and Jamie sat down again on the edge of the bed, Tegan still gripping her wrist, her face still hidden behind the pillow.

"Okay," Jamie said, and, after hesitating for a second, cautiously laid down on the bed, curling up on her side, facing Tegan. She waited like that for a while, watching Tegan, listening to her choke back her sobs, suffocating them with her pillow, feeling the tremors of Tegan's body through the mattress. After a few minutes of uncertainty, Jamie took hold of the pillow and gingerly pulled it away from Tegan's face. Tegan finally released the pillow, and then covered her face with her hands. "It's okay to just cry, you know," Jamie said softly. "You don't have to like. . . choke to death. . ." She took hold of one of Tegan's hands and gently pulled it away from her face. Tegan did not open her eyes. Her face was wet with tears, red, pained, her nose running. _She's still beautiful, even with her nose running. _With Jamie holding one of her wrists, she covered her eyes with the other. "I think you're just going to give yourself a headache trying not to cry. Why are you trying to stop? Everyone cries. It's fine," Jamie said, rubbing Tegan's shoulder, tenderly tucking a lock of hair behind Tegan's ear. "And," she said shyly, trying to add some levity to the situation, "I still like you when you cry. . ." With a short laugh that turned into a choking sob, Tegan put one arm around Jamie's waist and pulled closer, burying her face in Jamie's chest. Surprised, Jamie put her arms around Tegan and held her, Tegan's sobs echoing through Jamie's body, her tears soaking into Jamie's shirt. As she lay there, holding Tegan, feeling her trembling breaths, she thought of Sara's words in the airport. . . _this can't go on. . . it's wrong. _She thought of all the things that Tegan was losing, then, at least in her mind. Was she losing whatever remained of a _normal _relationship with her sister? Was she losing a lover, or something more than that? Was she losing a soul mate, if such a thing even existed? Had all of their indulgences in their feelings for each other made it impossible for them to relate to each other in any other way? Or permanently shamed them into silence? As Jamie felt the wetness from Tegan's tears against her skin, she thought that maybe Tegan was losing all of those things, and she wondered which of those things hurt the most.

"Shhhhh," she whispered softly to Tegan, hesitantly reaching up to stroke Tegan's hair as she cried. "It's okay. . . it's going to be okay. . ."

They stayed like that until they both fell asleep.

…

It wasn't the three hour time difference that woke Jamie the next morning, but the odd sensation that someone was very close by. She awoke with a start and opened her eyes to find Tegan's face regarding hers thoughtfully. Jamie was lying on her back with her arms above her head, a position she often awoke in, and Tegan was lying next to her, her head propped up on one hand, watching her closely.

"Hey. . ." Jamie mumbled, groggy and surprised. Tegan lay close enough that Jamie could feel the heat from her body. She was very very close. Jamie's stomach dropped. "Um, are you okay?" she asked Tegan awkwardly. Indeed, Tegan's eyes were very puffy, and she looked like she hadn't slept at all. "You look tired." Tegan nodded a little, not taking her eyes off of Jamie's. The intensity of her look, with the vertical crease between her eyebrows and the faint trace of a smile, added new layers of confusion to a situation that Jamie's brain was still too foggy to comprehend. She'd held Tegan as she cried, for a long time, and then somehow she had slept. . . and now Tegan was looking at her as if she'd just discovered something new. The eye contact, though, was making Jamie nervous; she needed to either say something or do something, but her body's response to Tegan's nearness prevented her mind from catching up. Not to mention the fact that her arms were still up above her head, making her feel very exposed.

She didn't need to say or do anything, though, after all; Tegan looked slowly from Jamie's eyes to her mouth, and, suddenly enough to send a slight spasm through Jamie's body, Tegan reached her free hand over and pulled her body on top of Jamie's. A slight, involuntary gasp of surprise escaped Jamie's mouth as the warm skin of Tegan's belly pressed against her own, in the little space where her t-shirt had lifted. Tegan's hands were now on either side of Jamie's head, Jamie's arms were still awkwardly folded above her, and her surprised eyes were wide and fixed on Tegan's as a rush of heat flooded through her.

"You know, you really are. . ." Tegan began in a low voice, her eyes scanning from Jamie's eyes down to her lips again, "a sexy motherfucker." In her eyes, in her voice, there was curiosity, a hint of laughter, and warmth. And still, as was obvious to Jamie, pain.

Jamie wouldn't have known what to say even if she'd had a chance to say something, but she didn't. Her mouth was still slightly open in surprise when Tegan's lips met hers, soft and warm and a little wet, and Jamie forgot to breathe in the four seconds of the kiss. She didn't have time to breathe much after the kiss, either, when Tegan pulled her face back just a few inches and looked her in the eye again. Jamie's heart was pounding now, hard enough to transmit its pulsations through her chest and into Tegan's, pressed against hers. All she had time for was a quick, surprised _uh _before Tegan's mouth was on hers again, and this time the wet softness of Tegan's tongue met hers, Tegan's hand was on her cheek, then running through her hair, and then cradling the back of her neck. She could taste Tegan's mouth, a hint of toothpaste, and although she herself hadn't had time to brush her teeth yet, she couldn't make herself care.

Tegan's hips shifted and pressed against hers and her breath caught in her throat. _I've literally died, _she thought. _There are no organs left. The thieves got them all and I've died and this is the afterlife. _The pounding of her heart had intensified, sending ripples of lesser pulsations to all the parts of her where blood flowed. She reflexively lifted her arms from where they were resting above her head, and, as Tegan continued to kiss her, her hands cautiously found Tegan's hips and the soft cotton of her pajama pants. Her fingers slipped under Tegan's t-shirt and up her back, over the smooth warmth of her skin, pulling her down, closer, tighter. Part of Jamie wanted to ask her, _What are you doing? Do you really want to be doing this? _but with Tegan's mouth on hers, there was nothing she could say.

Tegan broke the deep kiss at last and lifted her face. Her chest and belly were still pressed against Jamie's; Tegan's hips, now, were between Jamie's knees.

"Jamie," Tegan said suddenly, somewhat out of breath, looking for eye contact again from Jamie, but Jamie could only look in her eyes for a moment before closing her own; her face, and everything else, felt flushed, inflamed.

"Mmm?" she managed.

"You like me, right?" Tegan asked. Jamie opened her eyes, met Tegan's again, as she repressed a sudden, manic giggle.

"Uh huh," she said, incredulously, with a short, breathless laugh.

"Do you think I'm normal?" Tegan went on, joking and yet not, with a trace of a smile, her eyes laughing, and then sad. Jamie nodded wordlessly, her mouth open, speechless. After a quiet pause, Tegan leaned down and kissed her again, slowly and deeply, pressing her hips down between Jamie's legs until Jamie involuntarily squeezed those hips with her thighs. The pressure of Tegan's pelvis between her legs was getting hard to take.

"Tegan. . ." Jamie struggled to say around the pulsing in her throat, as Tegan's lips grazed her ear, and then her neck, and then her collar bone, just above the neckline of her shirt.

"Mmmm?" Tegan asked, still gently kissing her skin, and Jamie drew in a quick breath as Tegan's fingers slid over her belly, and then, slowly, up inside her shirt. She stopped with her hand pressed against Jamie's breastbone, in the centre of her chest, where, despite Tegan's small frame, the weight of an anvil was flattening her lungs.

"Um. . . really, are you okay?" Jamie breathed, after a moment. Tegan's face was close to hers again, her brown eyes looking into Jamie's. The lines around her eyes were laughing.

"Are _you _okay?"

"I just mean. . . you've been so. . . _sad_," Jamie struggled to explain, her chest painfully rising and falling against Tegan's hand, trapped between her conscience and the hot ache that was filling her up. Tegan examined her eyes.

"Are you worried that I'm. . . using you?" Tegan asked in a low voice, with a faint suggestion of a smile. Jamie tried to laugh.

"No. . . but you-" She didn't finish her sentence, because Tegan drew one hand across Jamie's breast, and she shivered.

"You're shaking," Tegan whispered, with the slightest grin.

"No, I'm not," Jamie breathed, blushing more deeply as Tegan's fingers gently traced over her breast.

"You are," Tegan said, smiling, and kissed her again, even more slowly and more deeply than before, as her hand drifted down gradually, over Jamie's ribcage, and down her belly. Jamie's stomach twisted into a knot and she moaned, involuntarily, into Tegan's mouth, as Tegan's fingers slipped smoothly under the waistband of her underwear. Jamie reflexively grabbed Tegan's arm.

"_No_?" Tegan whispered against Jamie's lips.

"I. . ." Jamie paused, completely at a loss, drawing a breath.

"_Then let me in. . ." _Tegan whispered, kissed her mouth again, and again, and then, her face so close to Jamie's that the tips of their noses touched momentarily, she slid her hand down further. Jamie's breath caught in her throat, and she stopped breathing altogether.

"_Aha," _Tegan whispered, "_God. . ." _as Jamie, one hand gripping the shoulder of Tegan's t-shirt, pulled Tegan forward and pushed her face into Tegan's neck.

"_Oh," _she gasped, as Tegan's fingers found all the evidence of Jamie's arousal, gently circling, while everything she touched swelled and pulsed. Jamie squeezed Tegan, arms tight around her, as Tegan's fingers continued their slow movements. Tegan lowered her face, pressing her lips against Jamie's collarbone, and Jamie's hand slid up Tegan's back, around the back of her neck, gripping Tegan's hair unconsciously as the pressure from her fingers intensified. Jamie's mouth found Tegan's neck as she held onto her, and she gasped against it a second later when Tegan's two fingers stopped their circling and slid down slowly, lower, and, with gentle pressure, inside.

"_Ack!" _Tegan gasped in surprise, a whispered laugh as Jamie's hand, quite without her authority, convulsively gripped the hair at the nape of Tegan's neck. Jamie wasn't laughing, though. She didn't want to cry out, didn't want to make a sound, but she did anyway, her breath heavy with Tegan's, as Tegan's fingers pressed into her slowly. Her body was burning; they were both sweaty, and hadn't bothered to undress, so the fabric between them dampened and stuck to their skin. She clutched at Tegan, their bodies rocking together slightly as Tegan's fingers continued. Jamie's chest heaved, and Tegan's hot breath on her neck intensified her own laboured breath. She moaned, in spite of herself, as Tegan's fingers curled inside of her, _come here. _And she did, everything inside of her clenching, squeezing Tegan's fingers as the wave of contractions overcame her and, with one arm around Tegan's shoulders, she pulled her in tight and cried out, shuddering against Tegan's shoulder once, and then again, gasping, and then exhaling, hard and fast. She could hardly hear Tegan's soft murmur over the pounding of blood in her ears, in her chest, and her own ragged breaths.

"_Oh, wow, haha. . ." _came Tegan's soft voice.

Jamie released her tight grip on Tegan, went limp, a hand over her face as she lay there, catching her breath, each additional contraction an aftershock, shaking her body, squeezing Tegan's fingers again. Tegan's hand stayed where it was, still, and she looked at Jamie's face, flushed and damp with sweat, covered by her hand.

"Hey," Tegan said softly, but Jamie wasn't going to look in her eyes while her fingers were still inside. Maybe Tegan sensed this, because she gingerly, slowly withdrew her fingers.

"Oh," Jamie gasped a little. Tegan's hand moved softly over her belly again and came to rest, once more, in the middle of her chest. Jamie reluctantly moved her hand away from her face and opened her eyes to see Tegan's face, pink and damp like hers. Tegan leaned down and kissed her lips again, softly, brushing a damp strand of hair back from Jamie's forehead.

"You're sweet," Tegan said.

"God," Jamie said, covering her eyes with her hand again. Tegan laughed and gently pulled it away. After a few more kisses, Jamie's fingers tentatively slid down Tegan's hips and found the waistband of Tegan's pants, but Tegan gently caught her fingers, and lifted Jamie's hand to her face.

"Next time," she said, turning Jamie's hand and pressing her lips against its palm. "I just want to sleep."

"We just woke up," Jamie said, still somewhat breathless.

"Mmmhmmm," Tegan said, resting her head on Jamie's shoulder. They were asleep within minutes.


	11. I Can't Help Myself, If It's a Fit

**Author's Note: What would you do? ;)**

**Chapter 11: I Can't Help Myself, If It's a Fit, It'll Fit**

Later, it occurred to Jamie that she spent much of that tour waking up. She was waking up in different states, to different realities, nearly every day, while also feeling like she was never really sleeping at all. This time, she slept for an hour, or maybe two, and then woke up slowly to wave after wave of shock and disbelief. When she opened her eyes, the room was filled with the bright light of early afternoon, and she was alone in the bed. In Tegan's bed.

_Holy fuck, _her mind said to her as sensations came back. She licked her lips; she could still taste Tegan's mouth in hers, and, recollecting, she could very nearly feel Tegan's hands, in all the places Tegan's hands had been. The memory alone triggered an anticipatory response in her body.

She could faintly hear the shower, and she lay there, stunned, processing, her mind utterly spinning.

She heard the shower stop, and was immediately assaulted by the mental image of Tegan's wet skin, maybe a little pink from the heat; the thought brought a different kind of heat to her, accompanied by another flood of disbelief. _I admit it: part of me wants to call Kim and tell her where I am. _She laughed sarcastically at herself for the thought, because she knew she would then be completely voted off the island. _Hey Kim, guess what? Tegan just slept with me because she's trying to feel normal even though she's in love with Sara. Don't tell anyone, okay? _Nope.

She heard the bathroom door open and her heart jumped, just as her phone started ringing, sending it sinking again like a weight. With a sigh of irritation, she glanced at the screen. Her sister. She hesitated, as she always did. Let it ring? Go to voicemail? It had been weeks since she'd spoken to her sister, and the last conversation with her mother had been most unpleasant. _What will I say?_ she asked herself, imagining even more impossible conversations. _I'm in Tegan's bed. She's in the shower. . ._

"Hello?" she answered, heavily, as the residue of the morning clashed with the sudden reality of her former life, although, lying there in Tegan's room, she was no longer sure which reality was real at all.

"Hi, where are you?" her sister asked abruptly.

"Uh. . . Vancouver," Jamie replied, her heart jumping yet again as Tegan walked into the room in just a t-shirt and underwear, her hair wet, with a cup of yogurt and a spoon in her hand. Jamie lay there, the phone to her ear, and met Tegan's mischievous grin, trying unsuccessfully not to glance at Tegan's bare legs.

"Vancouver? What? In Canada?" her sister asked.

"Yeah. . . um, what did you want to talk about?" Jamie asked distractedly as Tegan sat on the bed in front of her, cross-legged, and peeled the top off the yogurt cup, a faint smile on her lips.

"What are you doing in Vancouver? Where are you staying?" her sister interrogated, her voice slightly accusatory.

"Uh, editing the video that I took um. . . with Tegan," Jamie said haltingly, feeling the heat rush to her face as Tegan grinned at her, spooning a little bit of yogurt into her mouth and turning the label to face Jamie. She mouthed the word _pineapple _and winked.

"You're with Tegan? Where? At a hotel?" Her sister's incredulous voice persisted. It was too much for Jamie - her sister's very awkwardly-timed questions, Tegan's laughing eyes on her, the milky smooth skin of her thighs, her face pink from the shower.

"Um, what? Oh," Jamie said distractedly, "no, uh, at Tegan's house. . ."

"You're _staying _at her _house? _What are you like. . . how. . . what is _going on_?"

"Nothing," Jamie said, too quickly. "No, uh. . . we're just editing. There are like, six hundred hours of footage to edit. . ." Tegan was watching her, and licking the back of her spoon suggestively. Hot confusion rose up through Jamie's chest and into her face and she closed her eyes. She needed to focus on this conversation so that she could get it over with.

"Hmm, okay, well, when are you coming back?" her sister asked.

"Uh, after the tour. . . in a few months, I guess. I don't know," Jamie said, flustered, feeling Tegan shift on the bed, Tegan's bare thigh pressing momentarily against her own. This reminder sent tremors through Jamie's insides; the recollection of Tegan's lips on hers, of her touch, the warmth and weight of Tegan's body on hers. She couldn't think; her pulse raced.

"A few months? What about school?"

"Um, actually I have to go," Jamie said suddenly. "We have an appointment at a studio, so. . ."

"What kind of appointment?"

"So, um, I'll talk to you later, okay? Say hi to everybody," Jamie concluded.

"Okay but-"  
"Bye!" Jamie said, switching her phone off with a sigh and, after a moment, opened her eyes again, almost reluctantly, self-conscious under Tegan's gaze.

"Family?" Tegan asked, taking another spoonful of yogurt. Tegan's eyes were on the yogurt, and Jamie's eyes briefly flicked over her tattooed arms, her smooth, pale legs, dark blue underwear. . .

"Um, yeah, my sister. . ." Jamie replied, trying through sheer force of will to drain the colour from her face and just be calm and cool, but Tegan was sitting on a bed with her, with no pants on, and a slightly smug grin on her yogurt-eating face.

"I guess she wonders what you're doing here," Tegan said, sucking a little on the plastic spoon.

"Yeah. . ."

"Did you tell her?" Tegan asked, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Ha. . ." Jamie laughed, a little nervously.

"You're blushing," Tegan pointed out.

"No I'm not," Jamie said.

"You are," Tegan said, smiling. "Want some of my yogurt?"

"Yeah, sure." Jamie said quickly, happy for the distraction. She sat up and crossed her legs too; her knee touched Tegan's. _This is ridiculous, _she thought, _after what happened, brushing against her knee should not still give me a heart attack._

"Oh- can I. . ." Jamie started, pausing in the midst of taking the spoon as Tegan held the cup.  
"No," Tegan laughed sarcastically. "No, don't use my spoon. I can share saliva with you but no, don't use my spoon."  
"Oh my God," Jamie mumbled, taking a scoop of yogurt.

"You're still blushing," Tegan said with a big smile.

"You're. . . trying to. . . you're doing it on purpose," Jamie said helplessly, tasting the pineapple yogurt with Tegan's spoon. Tegan's head fell back in a silent laugh.

"Okay," she said. "Okay, I won't tease you." Jamie gave her an accusing look. "You really are sweet." Jamie shivered involuntarily, recalling the same words from earlier. Tegan took more yogurt and gave the spoon back to Jamie.

"Well. . . I try," she said. _Brilliant_, she thought, _you are a brilliant conversationalist. At this rate, Tegan may as well be talking to the cup of yogurt. _She was avoiding Tegan's eyes. There was a brief silence, which Tegan finally broke.

"So, this is kind of awkward, eh?" she said softly, and Jamie resisted the urge to laugh at the Canadian tag question.

"A little, maybe. . ." she admitted. _Only more awkward than any other situation I've ever been in in my life. Except for all the times I accidentally witnessed you and Sara having sex. . . _Tegan finished the yogurt and leaned back to put the cup and spoon on her night stand. She sat back up again, and shifted a little so that both of her knees were in contact with both of Jamie's.

"It doesn't have to be, though," Tegan said gently. Jamie's eyes flicked up to hers and then down again, to the tree on her right forearm. That tree was becoming her focal point when eye contact was too much for her.

"No? Uh. . . how?" Jamie asked, suppressing a desire to touch the branches of the tree. She half-expected a bird to fly out of it.

"Damn, it's cute when you blush," Tegan said with a cheeky smile.

"God!" Jamie exclaimed, "you're a smartass, aren't you?" She could feel her face burning. _Don't look at me. Don't look at me like that or I will dissolve into a puddle on your bed_. Tegan laughed.

"Maybe a little. So," Tegan continued, lightly placing her hands on Jamie's knees, sliding them slowly up to her hips, and then her waist. "Am I going to get to see some of this?" she asked, playfully attempting to lift Jamie's t-shirt. Jamie reflexively grabbed her shirt and held it down.

"Haha," she laughed, a little nervously. "You already have." Tegan's eyebrows shot up and she grinned mischievously.

"Oh yeah! But, no, that doesn't count," she argued.

"It _totally _counts," Jamie disagreed, incredulous.

"No, it was only for a second and then you ran back into the bathroom," Tegan laughed, putting her hands on the bed behind her and leaning back.

"Of course I ran back into the bathroom! What would you have done?" Jamie asked, ironically wishing she could undress; she was burning hot.

"Oh, I would have lost the underwear, too," Tegan laughed. Jamie laughed too, until the recollection of Tegan's fingers sliding down her belly came suddenly back to her, and she shivered. "You okay?"  
"Yeah, just a little cold," Jamie lied.  
"Maybe you should get under the covers," Tegan suggested.  
"Good idea," Jamie said, the shyness still preventing her eyes from lingering too long on Tegan's.

Jamie quickly pulled back the covers and crawled under. Tegan did the same, and they lay facing each other.

"Better?" Tegan asked.

"Mmmhmm," Jamie said.

"Hey, Jamie," Tegan said. "Look at me." Jamie raised her eyes and hesitantly met Tegan's warm brown ones. She smiled gently.

"Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Yeah, sure. . ." Jamie said, looking again at the tree tattoo resting on the bed between them.

"You can't look at me for more than five seconds at a time," Tegan teased. Jamie looked up at Tegan for a second and then back at the tattoo.

"Sure I can," she said shyly, and Tegan laughed softly.

"You just did it again!"

"What?"

"You looked at me and then looked away. Are you embarrassed?" Tegan asked, her tone, her whole manner a mixture of cheekiness and tenderness that quite disarmed Jamie but also intensified her embarrassment.

"Uh, well. . ." she said, wondering if it was possible to actually blush, deeper and deeper, indefinitely.

"Why? What are you embarrassed about?" Tegan pressed softly. Jamie gave a little, short, nervous laugh. _I can still taste your mouth, _Jamie thought, _and you're asking me these questions. . ._

"Well. . ." Jamie started.

"Because we had sex?" Tegan offered helpfully. Jamie winced. "Look at me, Jamie. . ." she said again in a soft, sing-song way. Jamie forced herself to meet Tegan's gaze. Her eyes laughed. They laughed all the time. _Except when they were crying..._ "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You're cute and you're sweet. . . and a really good kisser. . . and I wanted to touch you. And I think you wanted me to." Jamie swallowed.

"Ha. . . maybe," she forced herself to say, her mouth nearly failing to form words.

"I think you've liked me for a long time," Tegan continued, and now it was her turn to sound a little bit shy. _Good, _Jamie thought.

"Uhh. . ." she started, wondering if Tegan could actually _see _her racing pulse. "Yeah. . ."

"How long?" Tegan pressed.

"About. . . four years. . ." Jamie said, pretending to think about it. She looked at the tattoo, at Tegan's small hand between them on the bed, and then reluctantly back to Tegan's warm eyes. Tegan smiled at her, flushing a little.

"Wow," Tegan said softly. Jamie lay there, struggling with a powerful impulse to touch Tegan's hand. _What's stopping me? She touched me. . . everywhere. . . and I'm afraid to touch her hand?_

"Yeah. . . why do you think I followed you guys all over the place?" Jamie asked, looking firmly at Tegan's hand, embarrassed to admit it.

"Well. . . I'm flattered," Tegan said with a smile. "And now. . . here I am, so. . ." Tegan said, her voice low and soft. She raised one hand, tucked a lock of Jamie's hair behind her ear and then set her hand back down. "What are you going to do about it?"

Jamie's heart hammered against her ribcage, the nerves in her chest threatening to send violent tremors through her whole body. Tegan was teasing her, yes, but she lay there, still, her eyes on Jamie's face, her lips. She teased, but tenderly. She laughed, but her eyes invited.

Her heart in her throat, Jamie timidly reached out a hand to Tegan's face, her fingers traced over Tegan's eyebrow, her cheekbone, her lips, the tiny metal sphere below her lip.

"God, you're beautiful. . ." Jamie whispered, the words out of her mouth before she could stop them. The smile that crossed Tegan's face started warm and ended sad, and it pained Jamie's heart, and the pain compelled her.

Jamie's hand cautiously slipped through Tegan's hair and around the back of her neck as she pulled herself closer. Tegan's eyes were on Jamie's, and she didn't move, didn't raise a hand, didn't say a word as Jamie tenderly brushed her hair back from her forehead. Jamie could see things in her eyes, her face: pain, confusion; she wondered whether she was thinking about Sara.  
"Jamie," Tegan said suddenly, her voice quiet. Jamie felt a contraction in her chest every time Tegan said her name.  
"Yeah?"  
"What's. . . uh, do you think something is. . . missing. . . from me?" she asked hesitantly, and her intense vulnerability melted Jamie's insides, as she was powerfully reminded of the very first time she had ever set eyes on Tegan. That same intense vulnerability was what had doomed her in the first place. _Look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive... _Not possible.

"No way," she said softly, her eyes on Tegan's.

"Then will you please kiss me?"

Jamie froze, just for a moment. _She asked me. . . _Jamie thought, then, moving a little closer, with her hand in Tegan's hair, pressed her lips against Tegan's slightly open mouth, taking Tegan's lower lip between hers, tasting the tanginess of the pineapple yogurt on Tegan's lips. She moved her face back an inch or two; Tegan's face was pink, too.

"More," Tegan whispered. Jamie leaned in to kiss her again, tasting yogurt again, this time on Tegan's tongue, shivering a little as Tegan's hand slipped under her t-shirt and along her back. Tegan put her arm around Jamie and pulled her, lifted her over and onto her own body under the covers. "Why are you wearing this?" she asked, tugging a little at Jamie's t-shirt and then sliding it up Jamie's body, over her head, and down her arms.  
"Not fair," Jamie said, as Tegan's eyes moved from her face to her neck, to her shoulders, and down.  
"Why not?" Tegan asked, her eyes still drifting over Jamie's body.  
"Hey!" Jamie protested, lifting Tegan's chin with her fingers.  
"Why are you so shy? You look so good," Tegan said. To Jamie's surprise, Tegan took hold of her hips and then pulled herself to a sitting position, with Jamie's legs now around her waist, as she found herself straddling Tegan's lap, the covers sliding off of her back.  
"Uh. . . thanks," she said, awkward, embarrassed, aroused. ". . .But you have to take yours off, too. . ."

"You do it," Tegan said, and Jamie took hold of Tegan's t-shirt and lifted it. Tegan raised her arms and allowed Jamie to pull the t-shirt over her head, her hair falling messily over her eyes again. When Tegan wrapped her arms around Jamie and pulled their bodies together, Tegan's mouth was at the level of Jamie's collarbone, and Jamie shivered again feeling Tegan's breasts pressing softly below Jamie's. Jamie gently lifted Tegan's chin again, this time for a kiss, as she leaned down to meet her lips, squeezing Tegan's waist with her thighs. Tegan slid her hands from Jamie's knees, slowly up her thighs as Jamie kissed her mouth, then her neck, and then her bare shoulders, as the soft warmth of Tegan's skin pressed against hers. Tegan pulled Jamie down next to her again, their kisses slow and deep, their legs tangled together, until Tegan's hands made their way down Jamie's back. Her fingers traced over Jamie's hips and then took hold of the smooth cotton of her underwear and slid them down slowly. Jamie froze for a moment, again, but a moment later she was wearing nothing, on top of Tegan, in the early afternoon light.

"Oops," Tegan laughed, beneath her, kissing Jamie's throat.

"Ha," Jamie managed to say around the pulse racing in her throat, pulsing against Tegan's lips.

"Not fair?" Tegan breathed, and Jamie shook her head.

"You do it, then," Tegan said again, and Jamie helped Tegan remove her last article of clothing.

_Naked. We are both naked. Tegan. And me. In Tegan's bed. _Jamie would have laughed at the sheer impossibility of that thought, but the intensity of what she was feeling in her body, mixed with a heavy dose of shyness, made that impossible. The entirety of Tegan's warm body was against hers now, and when Jamie pressed her thigh down between Tegan's legs, she released a soft _oh _at what she found there. Tegan didn't look as smug and cheeky as she had before as Jamie's hand ran over the soft fullness of her breast and down her belly, kissing her earlobe, then her neck, and then her other breast. Jamie heard Tegan's heavy breaths, felt Tegan's chest rise against her lips and then, with newfound courage, Jamie raised her face to Tegan's.  
"What do you need?" she asked, in a whisper. Tegan's eyes closed for a moment, and Jamie thought, _now it's my turn to be smug... _when she saw the colour rise to Tegan's face.

"Can you. . .?" she started and stopped, her eyes on Jamie's, questioning, hesitating, then looking away, embarrassed.

Jamie's mouth was on Tegan's again, and Tegan returned the pressure with her own lips, tasting Jamie's tongue with hers as Jamie's hand gently traced the inside of Tegan's thigh. She felt Tegan quickly inhale as Jamie's hand slid higher and then found what she was hoping for.

_"Oh," _Jamie whispered against Tegan's neck, and Tegan moaned, pressing against Jamie's hand. Now, Jamie couldn't take her eyes off of Tegan's face, but it was Tegan whose eye contact failed; her eyes closed, her face turned towards Jamie's shoulder as Jamie's fingers softly circled through Tegan's wetness. "Who's shy now?" Jamie murmured. Tegan whimpered in response. Jamie was burning, too, but the sight of Tegan's flushed face and the sensation of Tegan pressing up against her hand gave her an ounce more boldness. She continued these gentle motions with her fingers, sliding, teasing, until Tegan's breath deepened, pleading, in Jamie's mouth as they kissed. At the sound of the slightest whine from Tegan's throat, Jamie slowly and smoothly pressed two fingers inside of her.  
Jamie watched Tegan's face but Tegan did not see her; her head tilted back, her eyes closed, her lips parted as Jamie's fingers pressed into her again, slowly. _She really does look just like she does on stage when she sings_, Jamie thought in awe, her heart skipping. One of Tegan's hands circled around Jamie's back, clutching at her shoulder as their bodies rocked and moved together. She kissed Tegan's lips and neck as Tegan's breathy moans intensified with the strokes of her fingers, and then, when Tegan's chest rose and she raised her hips against Jamie's hand, Jamie slowed the movement of her fingers. _Don't come yet... _Tegan gave a pained moan, her face tense, and clutched Jamie's arm.

"_Please. . ." _she whispered, red-faced, eyes closed tight. Jamie's face was just above hers.

"Okay_," _Jamie whispered, pushing inside of her again, her palm sliding against the hot swollen places there. She intensified the movement of her fingers, and Tegan's grip around Jamie's back tightened, her hand clenched, and the contractions inside Tegan's body squeezed Jamie's fingers in quick waves. Tegan's moan, very nearly anguished, was muffled against Jamie's shoulder as she came with a shudder. The vibrations of Tegan's voice passed through Jamie's shoulder and into her chest, where her heart throbbed painfully.

"_Ohhhhh. . ." _Tegan breathed, an arm still clutching Jamie close to her chest. Jamie kissed Tegan's hot, damp neck again, and then her lips, tenderly.

"_Mmmhmmm,_" Jamie voiced as they kissed, smiling against Tegan's lips. After a few moments, she started to withdraw her fingers, to a soft protest from Tegan. Jamie paused, feeling the heat and wetness of Tegan's body around her fingers.

"More?" she asked softly. Tegan nodded, her eyes still closed, catching her breath. Jamie started stroking her fingers again, almost imperceptibly at first, and then increasing as her thumb pressed and slid against the tender, swollen places, and it was only a few moments before Tegan came again, with another shuddering breath, her body tensing and then relaxing. Jamie kissed her lips, her eyelids, and Tegan embraced her more tightly, pressing her face into Jamie's neck. She gasped a little and spasmed again, slightly, and they lay still, entangled. They breathed together quietly for several minutes, their hot damp bodies pressed together, before Jamie slowly withdrew her fingers. They were quiet for a few more moments.

"Thank you," Tegan murmured breathlessly, her lips very close to Jamie's.

"Of course," Jamie replied simply and kissed her again, rolling over softly until they lay facing each other, one of Tegan's legs thrown over Jamie's hip. This time, Tegan was the one who avoided eye contact when Jamie looked at her. Jamie smiled, kissed her lips, her fingers tracing over one red cheek. Tegan, eyes closed, took a deep breath. Jamie's eyes flicked to the tattoos on Tegan's arms, pictures so familiar that they might as well have been on her own skin, though she had never seen them this close. _It's so funny_, she thought, _that it's like these are the only thing she's wearing._ She gently touched the tree on Tegan's right forearm, her fingers tracing its branches. Somehow, touching it almost felt more private than anything else she'd touched so far.

"I've always loved this one," Jamie said at last, softly. "It's just so. . . so part of what I think of, when I think of. . . you." Tegan finally met her eyes, and smiled at her warmly. "And this one. . ." she said, turning Tegan's left arm over and tracing over the ink on the inside of her forearm, "I almost always forget it's there, because I can never see it when you're holding your guitar." She flushed slightly, embarrassed to have called attention to her many nights in the crowded sea of faces looking up at the stage. "And this one," she hurried on, sliding her fingers over one that said "Kids 50." "I mean. . . did you lose a bet?" Tegan laughed softly. "Yeah, actually. Well, I mean. . . that's the easiest way to put it. . ." Tegan's eyes watched Jamie's face as Jamie examined the other tattoos. At last, she came to the one she was most interested in, on Tegan's upper arm. "And. . . I've wanted to ask you about this one," she started, a little shyly. The tattoo showed two people walking up a hill, their figures in silhouette. One carried a megaphone and the one behind pulled on the strap of the first one's backpack. Underneath, quite strikingly incongruous, the huge snarling face of a tiger. "Justify my love?" Jamie asked, and Tegan laughed, blushing a little.  
"Uh, yeah, that was. . . um. . . it's like an inside joke with my ex-girlfriend. It's a long story with like. . . tigers and. . . um, do you want something to eat?"

"Maybe I'll take a shower first," Jamie said.

"Okay," Tegan said, kissing her quickly. Jamie paused and kissed her back. It was another hour before she went to the shower.


	12. Just Give Me The Key

**Chapter 12: Just Give Me the Key**

She took her time in the shower, giving her mind a chance to grasp the few hours she'd spent conscious that day, and trying to unwind. The taste and the smell of Tegan were still with her, and every recollection impacted her body. Even just remembering Tegan's lips gave her a shiver.

'_Not real' doesn't really begin to describe my life right now,_ she thought, as she got out of the shower and dried off. She had no idea how to feel. Her heart and body were overwhelmed; her brain was spinning like the hard drive in her old laptop before it had stopped working altogether. She wished there were someone she could talk to about this, about Tegan, about loving Tegan for years and then suddenly being in her bed with her, naked. . . about Sara and the both of them together and what all of this meant and what, exactly, she was supposed to do.

She stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and jumped as she walked right into Tegan.

"Oh, your turn," she said, blushing and clutching the front of her towel.

"Still shy?" Tegan smiled. She was wearing the t-shirt and underwear again.

"Ha," Jamie laughed. "I don't know if I'll get over. . . being shy about. . . um, with you," she said, feeling awkward and regretting the sentence. Tegan's warm smile again, and she kissed Jamie's shoulder.

"We'll see. Okay, my turn!" Tegan went to the shower and Jamie dressed.

"I'll go out and grab something to eat," Jamie said through the bathroom door as the water turned on.

"Okay! There's a Chinese market just across the street. . . T&T, it's called. . ."

"Okay," Jamie said, grabbing Tegan's keys from a big glass bowl on the kitchen counter.

The cool, damp air hit her as she stepped into the street, and she took a breath, crossing quickly to the market on the other side. She went in, passing a few small Chinese ladies shopping in aprons. There were tanks off to one side with live crabs and fish, packages of unrecognizable dried snacks and plastic vacuum packs of gelatinous things. Jamie was starting to wonder if she would find anything she could recognize in the place when she located a small produce section and, next to it, some baked goods. She grabbed a couple of bananas, some small cinnamon rolls, and more yogurt. The woman at the cash register was the same height that Jamie had been when she was nine. _Or, the same height as Tegan_, she thought. She paid, crossed the street again to Tegan's building and let herself in.

Tegan was still in the shower. Jamie set the food on the counter and took the opportunity to look around the apartment a little, at framed pictures on the wall of Tegan with friends and family, with Sara, with other musicians, many of whom Jamie recognized from years of going to their shows.

Behind an ancient-looking leather sofa, up on the brick wall, was a painting. It showed two figures in silhouette, walking up a hill. One held a megaphone and the other, following behind, tugged on the backpack strap of the one in front. And, as incongruously as it appeared on Tegan's arm, the huge, snarling face of a tiger below. Jamie felt a chill, her eyes catching the sweeping 'S' at the bottom right hand corner.

The shower was still running. She lay down on the battered sofa and closed her eyes. She was, she realized, very very tired, despite having already had a nap that day. She thought of Sara's face, the last time she'd seen her, in the airport. The way she looked up to the ceiling with shiny eyes. _Take care of Tegan, _she'd said. Jamie felt a pang at the recollection, at all the thoughts of all the ways she had _taken care of _Tegan in this apartment. She recalled Sara's declaration, in the airport, that it had to stop. Did that make things between her and Tegan any more okay? Or did she just hope it did? She drifted off to a jarring mixture of excitement and guilt.

This brief, fitful nap was accompanied by a ghost of a dream, in which she was naked with Ted in Tegan's bunk. Her unconscious confusion swirled together with the daytime dreams of the last few hours and when she woke up, it took her a moment to remember where she was.

The shower was still running. She glanced at the clock up above the TV; it was 7pm, which meant that Tegan had probably been in the shower for more than an hour. Jamie couldn't remember, exactly; she'd woken up in bed with Tegan; she'd spoken with her sister; then sex; sleep; more sex; shower; shopping; sleep; and Tegan was still in the shower. . . but she thought it must have been more than an hour.

Jamie approached the bathroom, her ear to the door. All she could hear was water.

"Tegan?" she asked, tentatively, but heard nothing in reply except the continuous hissing of the faucet. Jamie stood there, uncertain. Maybe Tegan took hour-long showers, regularly? Maybe she had fallen asleep in there? Or maybe she'd felt so dirty after their. . .

Jamie turned the knob and opened the door a few inches, trying to peer in.

"Tegan, are you okay?" she asked, nervous, hesitant, but worried. No answer. She opened the door further, stepped in. "Hey, you've been in here for a long time so I. . . uh. . ." Jamie gingerly pulled the curtain aside a little and peered into the bath, to see Tegan sitting under the spray, on the floor of the tub, with her knees drawn up to her chin and her arms tight around her legs, her face pressed against her knees. "Jesus, Tegan you're - it's freezing! You're-"

She was swaying, slightly, and shivering in the cold spray, her forehead against her knees but her face twisted in pain. Tegan didn't look up as Jamie quickly turned off the faucets, pulling the curtain open further.

Jamie wanted to ask her what was wrong, but she was afraid to know. Instead, she grabbed a towel from the back of the door and knelt beside the tub. As Jamie wrapped the towel around her shoulders, Tegan finally turned to look at her, her eyes round and reddish, trembling.  
"I have to tell you something," she said, shaking, her lips purple, and the fear in her eyes sent a knot into Jamie's stomach.

"Okay," Jamie said, rubbing Tegan's shoulders and back through the towel. "Nothing worth freezing over, I'm sure. . . ?"

"I'm sorry," Tegan said, tearfully. "I wanted to tell you. . . I should have told you. . . _before. . . _it's too late. . ." Obvious anguish shook her body.  
"Too late for what?" Jamie said softly, still stroking Tegan's shoulders soothingly. "Tegan, whatever it is. . . it can't be that bad. . ." Tegan looked at her again, as if to say something, but just shook her head, teeth chattering. "Come on, let's get out of the bath. . ." Jamie helped Tegan to her feet, patting her with the towel, helping her step out of the tub.  
"I'm sorry. . ." Tegan said again. "If you knew. . . if you'd known you wouldn't. . . you wouldn't have touched me. . ." Jamie's heart wrenched as Tegan's face crumpled and her knees started to give way.  
"Hey!" Jamie cried, alarmed, quickly putting both arms around Tegan to keep her from falling. Tegan seemed nearly oblivious to Jamie's efforts to keep her standing; she was inconsolable.  
"I'm sorry," she repeated through shaky breaths. Her skin now nearly dry, it was easy to see the tears streaming down her face.

"Come on, let's get you dressed. . ." Jamie said, leading Tegan back to the bedroom with an arm around her shoulders to prevent another near-collapse. Sniffling and sobbing quietly, Tegan allowed herself to be led.

In the bedroom, Jamie gently guided Tegan to the end of the bed, and sat her there while she gathered some clothes for her from the closet. She was doubled over by the time Jamie returned, her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands, the towel falling off of her shoulders. She was oblivious as well to being naked, it seemed.

"Here, put these on," Jamie said, dropping to one knee at Tegan's feet. Tegan didn't move. She just wept. Jamie lifted one foot and then the other, slipped them through the leg holes of her underwear and slid them up her thighs. "Lift up a little," Jamie gently instructed her, and when she did, Jamie pulled them up the rest of the way. "And now this. . ." she pulled the t-shirt over Tegan's head and helped her get her hands through, pulling it down over her damp, cold skin. "You're freezing," Jamie said, grabbing the blanket from the foot of the bed and pulling Tegan into a hug as she tucked it around Tegan's shoulders. Tegan met her eyes, her face red, wet with tears. "Okay. . ." Jamie said nervously, leaning back and sitting on the bed next to Tegan. "Is that okay? Did you. . . um. . . what did you. . . want to say?" Jamie managed to ask, not really wanting to know. Tegan took a few deep, rattling breaths, tried to quiet herself. "Take your time. It's okay," Jamie said, putting her arm around Tegan again and gently rubbing her back through the blanket.

"Not okay," Tegan said, her voice catching. "It's not and you're going to hate me. . ." Her face crumpled again and she covered it with her hands as new tears spilled over. "Ooooohhhhhh my God, I hate _myself _and you're just going to. . ." Jamie felt an ache in her chest at such abject misery.

"I'm not going to hate you," Jamie assured her, putting one hand on Tegan's knee. Tegan flinched at the touch on her bare skin and pulled away.

"You will," Tegan said, shaking her head, her breathing inching closer to hyperventilating. "Oh, my God. . ."

"Take it easy," Jamie said softly. "Your hair is like. . . dripping. . ." Jamie got up and went back to the bathroom, grabbed a small towel, and returned. She placed the towel in Tegan's hands, but Tegan just sat there staring at it, tears dripping, nose dripping, hair dripping. Jamie picked up the towel and placed it over Tegan's head, gently squeezing the water from the ends of her hair and then carefully rubbing the towel over her head with both hands. She then gently used the towel to dry Tegan's eyes and nose.

"Hey," Jamie said, anxiety building within her. "Whatever it is. . . I mean, if it's this hard for you, maybe you aren't ready to tell me. . .?" Tegan looked at her with wide red eyes, shook her head.

"You need to know," she said weakly, still trying to suppress her sobs. "It's too late but you need to know. . ."

"It's not too late."

"You don't know. You're going to. . . maybe you should pack your stuff before I tell you, because. . ." Tegan covered her mouth with a hand and squeezed her eyes shut.

"No," Jamie said, rubbing Tegan's thigh. Tegan flinched again at Jamie's hand on her skin, but Jamie didn't let her pull away.  
". . .When I tell you," Tegan continued, "you won't want to be here. Oh, fuck. . ." She pressed her palms against her eyes, took a deep breath. "Okay," she said. The trembling had subsided slightly; she dropped her hands into her lap and started to breathe more normally. She closed her eyes, and sat quietly, gathering herself. "Okay," she said again, bracing herself She wiped her face off with the towel. Because she knew what the news was already, Jamie wondered if she should just tell Tegan she knew, to make it easier on her.  
"Tegan, whatever it is. . . I don't think you're ready to tell anyone. Or, maybe you need to tell someone else? Or. . ."

"No, it has to be you," Tegan said helplessly. "But it's too late anyway. . ."

"Why do you keep saying that?"  
"Because you already touched me. . ." Tegan looked sick. The colour had drained from her face. "When I tell you, you're going to want to take another shower. . ." The tears started again.  
"Nothing you are going to say can change. . . anything. . ." Jamie said, taking one of Tegan's icy hands and squeezing it. Tegan winced again, but didn't pull away. "God, you're so cold. . ." She rubbed Tegan's hand, warming it in hers. Tegan shook her head.  
"You're sweet," Tegan said. "I need a drink."  
"No, you don't."  
"I need about six, actually, to tell you this," she said, with a bitter laugh, wiping her face again with the towel, forcing herself to be calm. Jamie just waited, rubbing her hand gently.  
"Okay," Tegan said again, exhaling hard. "I've been. . . I mean, for a long time I've felt like. . . I _haven't_ been normal.I mean. . . Sara and I haven't. . ." She was trembling again. She closed her eyes tight. "Sara. . . she's my sister," Tegan said, looking at Jamie with wide eyes. Jamie met her eyes, calmly.

"Right," Jamie said gently to this non-sequitur. Tegan's tears intensified. " Hey. . ." Jamie said as Tegan put her face in her hands again, struggling not to cry.

"Ohhhh my God," Tegan murmured into her hands. "She's my sister and I've. . . we've been. . . God!" She started trembling again, doubled over with face in her hands. Jamie put a hand on her back and waited, torn. Tell her? Don't tell her? Either way seemed like a mistake. Neither way could eliminate the pain she was in, and both seemed equally dangerous. .

"Tegan," Jamie said, gently stroking Tegan's back, "I think I know what you want to tell me and. . . I don't think. . . um. . . I think you can't help. . . who you fall in love with."

There. The words sat heavily in the air between them. Tegan sat upright, met Jamie's eyes. Her mouth opened and closed.  
". . . what?"  
"I saw you, Tegan. . ." Jamie said uncertainly, beginning to doubt her decision. Her voice was gentle, but Tegan looked stricken; her mouth open, eyes wide, ashen faced. Even her lips were pale. She said nothing, and Jamie could see her searching, grasping for an answer. _She's hoping we're talking about two different things, _Jamie thought, pained.  
"What. . . what did you see?" Tegan asked hoarsely, her voice tense, edgy, her eyes wide, wild.  
"I saw you and Sara. . . in the hotel. . . in bed. . ." Jamie said, forcing the words out despite her overwhelming desire not to say them..  
"Oh my God," Tegan said, a hand over her mouth. "Oh fuck. . ." She got quickly to her feet and hurried to the bathroom.

"Tegan-" Jamie said after her, aching with her. The door slammed before Jamie got there. Inside, the unmistakable sound of retching. Jamie's stomach twisted, turned. She stood outside the bathroom door, heart racing. _How much more of all of this can my heart stand? _she thought.

"Tegan. . ." Retching, coughing within. An anguished sob. Jamie hesitated. _What is the correct protocol for entering the bathroom of a rock star you've just slept with after finding out that she's been sleeping with her twin sister too and is inside, vomiting? _The absurdity of it all would have been amusing if her stomach weren't tied into a very tight knot. The sickening sounds within had stopped, and now there was silence. "Tegan, I'm opening the door, okay?"

She opened the door. Tegan sat on the floor, leaning back against the tub. She looked green; she was taking the panicked breaths of the near-hysterical. Jamie dropped to her knees next to Tegan and put her arms around her.  
"Noooooo don't touch me; I'm disgusting!" Tegan sobbed, struggling frantically to escape from Jamie's embrace. "Oh God. . ."  
"You're not," Jamie said, holding her.  
"No, I'm a monster!" Tegan cried, pushing against Jamie's shoulder. Jamie didn't move.  
"You're not," she said again.  
"God, you don't understand!" Tegan said. "_I fucked my own sister. . ._" Her lips twisted into a sick grimace. "More than once."  
"That's not what I saw," Jamie said quietly, as Tegan stopped struggling, lay her head back against the edge of the tub and covered her eyes with her forearm, still taking shallow, shaky breaths.

"What did you see?" she asked bitterly. Jamie shrugged, stroked Tegan's cheek with her fingers, brushing her hair back from where the tears had caused it to stick to her face.

"Love," she said. Tegan shook her head again, sighed deeply.

"You must feel so dirty now," Tegan said, nearly whispering.

"No."

"You wouldn't have. . ."

"I knew, and I'm still here with you," Jamie said. Tegan shook her head slowly, eyes still covered.

"It's so. . . wrong. . ." Tegan murmured helplessly.

"I knew and I still. . . loved you," Jamie added. Tegan's arm dropped from her eyes and she looked at Jamie. Her eyes were so red, so sad.

"I'm sorry you love me," she said with a pained smile. Jamie tried to smile back, torn.

"I'm sorry you love Sara," she said. Tegan snorted, closed her eyes.  
"The word is like. . . it's. . ." Tegan's sigh was thick and heavy.

"Not enough?" Jamie offered.

"Yeah," Tegan said, and she began crying again, but this time she didn't push Jamie away as arms encircled her and held her on the cold tile floor next to the toilet. "God, I'm fucking sick, it's sick. . ."

"You're okay. It's okay." Jamie repeated, soothingly, as she held onto her, and, to her surprise, telling Tegan she was okay was the last step towards Jamie convincing herself of it. She tenderly wiped away Tegan's tears with her fingers.

Eventually, slowly, she helped Tegan to her feet and guided her back to her bed for a second time that night. Jamie gently helped Tegan under the covers and then followed her, curling up on her side behind Tegan, wrapping her arms around her tightly and hugging her to her chest, conjuring what felt like very distant memories of Tegan on stage, laughing and talking about spooning. _Shhhh... _she whispered again into Tegan's still-damp hair. _Shhhh..._ Tegan's sobs gradually subsided into whimpers, and then hiccups, as Jamie held her protectively, staring into the darkness until there was quiet.  
_My life. Not real._


	13. Watch Your Things Like I Watch Your Face

**Author's Note: Hey all, I'm back! And don't worry, of course Sara is coming back soon; otherwise it wouldn't be quincest! So just chill, sit back, and enjoy ;) This chapter is not for the faint of heart! **

**Chapter 13: I Watch Your Things Like I Watch Your Face**

When Jamie awoke the next morning, she was alone in Tegan's bed, the late morning sun painting patterns on the pale blue bedroom wall. She slowly sat up and looked over at Tegan's tear-stained pillow, once again struggling to call up memories of the previous evening, which seemed more like dreams than her dreams had. She climbed out of bed and followed the smell of coffee to the living room, where Tegan was already at the computer, watching Jamie's footage and picking out clips. Jamie came up behind Tegan and put her hands on Tegan's shoulders. "Hey," she said gently.

"Morning," Tegan said, putting one hand over Jamie's and giving it a soft squeeze.

"I thought you would sleep til noon at least," Jamie said, pulling a chair over and sitting close to Tegan, watching the computer screen.

"Me too, actually. . ." she said, closing the file she'd been viewing and clicking on the next one, "but once I woke up once, I just couldn't. . . I just kept. . ." She couldn't find the words to finish, but didn't need to. After a moment, she put a hand on Jamie's knee and looked at her. "Thanks for. . . for the. . ." she started and stopped again, at a loss. Jamie smiled sympathetically and nodded.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently. Tegan looked back at the screen, and shrugged, but her eyes had quickly become shiny. With her fingertips, Jamie turned Tegan's face towards hers, held Tegan's face between her hands, and kissed her, very tenderly, for a few seconds. When the kiss ended and they looked at each other again, Jamie saw Tegan's eyes quickly fill up and threaten to spill. She looked up at the ceiling and took a breath.

"I'm not going to cry all day today like a fucking spastic," Tegan said firmly.

"Okay. What are you going to spend all day doing today, then?" she asked, with a suggestive grin that managed to make Tegan laugh a little.

"Well, when we arrived we had five hundred sixty two hours of footage to edit," she said. "And now we have. . . let's see. . . five hundred and fifty eight." Jamie laughed.

"Yeah. Maybe we need a schedule or something?"

"Yeah," Tegan said. "Like, ten o'clock until ten fifteen: editing. Ten fifteen to one thirty:

crying hysterically. . ."

"Schedule some time in for yogurt," Jamie suggested and Tegan nodded.

"Yep, one thirty to one forty: yogurt. One forty to five thirty: hot sex. . ."

"Wow," Jamie said, blushing again, but only slightly.

"Five-thirty to six forty-five: crying again. . ."

"Maybe crying in the bath?" Jamie suggested, and Tegan nodded approvingly.

"Totally. Crying in the bath and then four thirty to five fifteen: vomiting," Tegan said.

"And more crying," Jamie agreed.

"And by then it must be time for more sex," Tegan said with a laugh.

"Absolutely," Jamie said. Tegan leaned close and tentatively kissed her.

"Maybe like, now would be a good time for –"

"I thought the same thing. . ." Jamie said.

"It's not one forty yet," Tegan pointed out, one hand creeping up Jamie's thigh.

"It probably is, somewhere," Jamie said, and they kissed again.

They actually did get some editing done later, in between periods of long, slow kisses; breathless, intense ones; bodies moving together on Tegan's bed and, at one point, the living room floor. They found time to go out and eat something other than yogurt at one point as well, in between a few hours of editing and a few hours of nakedness. They even took a shower together later in the evening, washing a day spent in bed together off of each other before ending up back in bed again. For Jamie, seeing Tegan completely fall apart and helping to put her back together had alleviated much of her shyness. They didn't talk about Sara, about the situation Tegan was in, about her assertion that she was sick. Jamie did what she could to keep Tegan's mind off of those things, either by chatting and joking with her, by keeping her attention on work, or by physically moving her attention elsewhere. Sex, obviously, was a very good distraction, but that itself was inextricable from what troubled Tegan's mind. That evening, after Jamie had washed Tegan's body, when she slowly kissed all the way down Tegan's belly and along her inner thighs, Tegan would not let go of her hand, and before Jamie had gotten any farther, Tegan had panicked and pulled on Jamie's hand.

"Wait—" came Tegan's voice, thick with arousal doused in fear. "I can't, no, I'm. . I'm not. .."

Jamie kissed Tegan's inner thighs and returned to her again.

"I'm sorry," Tegan said to her after one kiss, her voice heavy with shame. "I'm not. . . I don't feel. . . um. . . clean enough. . . for you." She looked away, her face reddening.

"You are clean enough for anyone," Jamie had said, kissing her again. "There's nothing dirty about you." They lay beside each other, and Jamie softly caressed Tegan's belly as she spoke.

"You're not disgusted to. . . do that. . . when you know about. . . ummmm. . ."

"Not disgusted. Not even slightly," Jamie said. "Nothing about you disgusts me. Well. . . it disgusts me a little that you aren't kissing me right now—"

Tegan's mouth was on Jamie's before she could say anything else.

…

The late afternoon sun slanted in the bedroom windows and hundreds of hours of unwatched video waited on the computer. Jamie brushed a hand over the tiger tattoo. Tegan, laying on her stomach with her head on her forearms, opened her eyes.

"Hmm?" she said. "Oh, I guess I fell asleep a little bit. Did you finish editing the footage?"

"Yep," Jamie laughed. "I finished the remaining five hundred hours while you were sleeping."

"That's good. Because that's what you're here for." Jamie snorted, tracing the tiger's face with her forefinger as Tegan rubbed her eyes and returned to consciousness.

"So. . . do you want to tell me what this _really _means?" she asked, as Tegan watched Jamie's hand move over her skin. She hesitated, with half a smile that fell at the end. A slight sigh.

"Yeah, it's like. . . it's all connected to. . . um. . . how it all started. . . with Sara. . ." Tegan started to explain, propping her chin up in her hands. Jamie lay on her back next to Tegan.

"How did it all start?" Jamie asked gently. Tegan thought about that, biting at her thumbnail. Jamie put a hand on Tegan's wrist and pulled her hand gently away from her mouth. Tegan took a breath.

"Well. . . " she started. "I guess it all started with a t-shirt. Well, a song and a t-shirt. . ." she said inexplicably. Jamie raised her eyebrows and watched Tegan's thoughtful face. With nothing to fiddle with and no fingernails to bite, it was harder for her to avoid Jamie's eyes.

"A t-shirt?" Jamie said encouragingly.

"It was. . . I guess we were sixteen. . . and I wrote a song. . . for Sara. . ." Jamie watched her quietly as her face reddened.

"Is it a song I would know?" she asked. Tegan shook her head quickly.

"No. We couldn't perform it, I mean. . . uh, a lot of my songs have been about Sara but there was. . . um, I could always like, make it sound like it was about something else. But this one, it was about Sara and I, we usually didn't play songs for each other, like. . . but I wanted to sing it to her and so I did. And, um. . . when I finished she just looked at me, and before I knew what was happening, she. . . she kissed me. . . so, we kissed and then. . . it was like, we were both so scared. Like we were scared but we kept kissing and like, we. . . we couldn't stop, and. . . Sara had this really cheesy t-shirt she'd bought like at the Army Navy," Tegan laughed a little, but it wasn't a happy laugh. "She was wearing that shirt, um. . . I mean, I held onto the t-shirt when we. . . when we. . ." Tegan's face burned. Jamie touched her arm, stroked the tiger softly.

"Okay," she said gently.

"Anyway, we both freaked out. I. . . Sara freaked out especially. After that, we fought a lot. We just stopped getting along. We stopped talking, everything. It's like, she pushed me away, she was so upset, and angry, and we just. . . we avoided being alone in a room together and. . . like, we_ couldn'_t be alone in a room together. We went to therapy. For a long time. But we couldn't ever tell anyone the _real_ reason we were fighting, not even the therapists, so nothing ever helped. And we tried to forget it had happened. . . and it didn't happen again. Sara moved to Montreal to keep. . . to stop it. . ." Tegan's voice thickened and she swallowed. Jamie brushed her hair back from Tegan's forehead as she stared down at the sheets.

"Did you keep the t-shirt?" Jamie asked, and Tegan looked at her with surprise.

"Haha, yeah. Um. . . we were fighting and not talking and it was just awful and I would. . . uh, I would like, just um. . . like sleep with the shirt. . ." Tegan shook her head, bitterness twisting her mouth momentarily.

"That's sweet," Jamie said gently. Tegan took a breath.

"I mean, I missed her so much but we would tour and see each other but it wasn't the same, she. . . she hated me. . ."

"She never hated you," Jamie said. "She was afraid."

"Well. . . then, she met Emy, and I think she wanted. . . I think she was happy, um, to have a, um, a _normal _life. . . for a while, and I was happy for her, but I, um, I couldn't. . . I couldn't. . . um. . ." Tegan swallowed again and took a deep breath. "Anyway, after, um, it was after she broke up with Emy, and then. . . she was so devastated and she came to stay with me. . . she just didn't want to be in Montreal and everything that reminded her of like, her broken life, and how she'd tried to, like, get away. From me. I think. And so she came to me and she was so broken. She'd just cry and I'd hold her in my bed and. . . she found that t-shirt under my pillow, that stupid tiger t-shirt. . ." Tegan closed her eyes and said nothing for a moment. Jamie thought she would cry again, maybe, but after a moment she went on. "Well she found the t-shirt and. . . we. . . um, we. . . it happened again. . . God, this must make you sick."  
"No," Jamie said. "It doesn't." Tegan rolled to face Jamie, and Jamie did the same. "Go on," Jamie said with a smile, propping her head on her hand.  
"Uh. . . well, after that it was like, we were _dying_. I mean, it was like we felt like we had to be together or we'd die, but. . . after we would, like. . . after we'd. . . um. . . Sara would just be so angry. . . and. . . I mean, I don't think. . . I don't know if it's our fault because like. . . I kind of think we were. . . _made_ this way," she said. "It's fucked up and twisted but like. . . it's like it was coming our whole lives." Jamie nodded. "And now it's just. . . if our family found out, or our band. . . our managers. . . our fans. . . our career would be done and our family would be. . ." Tegan's voice failed a little.  
"Yeah," Jamie said, not sure how else to respond.

"And we somehow created this. . . _life_, just, just so we _could_ be together. . . all the time. . . and at the same time, _that_. . . is what could. . . um. . . I mean, we'd just lose. . . everything," Tegan whispered. Jamie met her eyes, scared and pained. "Don't you think so?" Jamie had thought about that a good deal over the last few months.

"Well. . ." she started gently, "I guess. . . I mean. . . you'd lose some fans. And probably some friends. But not everyone," she said. "But. . . yeah. I. . . can't imagine how it could affect your career but. . . it wouldn't be good." Tegan nodded, and she closed her eyes.

"I don't know why we're like this, I mean. . . why are we _like _this? I just want to be normal but I. . . _need her._" Jamie swallowed and looked at the tattoo again, closely.

"It's like the two of you are in a cage," she mused. "You have the megaphone and you want to tell everyone, but Sara's there, pulling you back and you're. . . imprisoned."

"Yeah," she said simply. "And there's no way out." Tegan rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling for a while, saying nothing. Jamie lay there, watching Tegan's face, her fingers gently stroking the tattoo still.

"Do you really think so?" she asked softly, and Tegan turned her eyes to Jamie, momentarily lost.

"Hmm?"

"There's no way out," Jamie clarified. Tegan's eyes remained on hers, her forehead furrowed.

"Yeah. It's like, we can't. . . be together. It's just impossible. But we can't be apart either. We've tried and it's just. . . " her voice trailed off. Jamie lay a hand on Tegan's belly, feeling her warmth through the soft cotton of her t-shirt.

"I don't know," Jamie started tentatively. "Maybe there's a way. I mean. . . maybe it will never be like a really. . . open. . . relationship, but maybe you can find a way to be together. . . somehow. . ." She struggled with these words, these ideas, with how much she hoped it could be true for Tegan's sake, how much she doubted it in her own heart, and how much she wished for something else entirely. Tegan lay her hand over Jamie's and sighed. After a moment, Tegan looked up at Jamie and smiled sadly, shook her head. "And hey, I can be your cover, if you want," Jamie said. Tegan raised her eyebrows as Jamie's hand traced down Tegan's belly and around to her hip. At this touch, Tegan rolled to face Jamie.

"Huh? How's that?" she asked with a grin.

"I mean, go places with you, be seen in public, pretend to be your girlfriend. . ." Jamie smiled but a pained look crossed Tegan's face.

"Oh, Jamie, you-"

Jamie quickly put two fingers against Tegan's lips.

"Nope," Jamie said lightly. She held her fingers there for a moment, and as soon as she moved them, Tegan spoke again.

"I didn't mean-"

"Shush," Jamie said, this time clamping a hand over her mouth. "Don't say it." Jamie's eyes locked on Tegan's for a few moments, and she moved her hand, and again, Tegan spoke.

"It isn't-"

"How am I going to shut you up?" Jamie asked, and answered her own question by pressing her lips quickly against Tegan's. Tegan kissed her back, slipping one hand around Jamie's waist as Jamie's hand moved over the front of Tegan's shirt, tracing the shape of her breast, causing Tegan to inhale sharply. With a hand on Jamie's hip, Tegan pulled her closer, brought their hips together, and kissed her deeply, sliding one hand down Jamie's leg and pulling Jamie's knee up and over her own hip.

"Ha," Tegan whispered. "I like your legs around me." Jamie gave a very short, breathless laugh.

"Really? Weird. Because it has absolutely no effect on me," she said, kissing Tegan again on the lips, and then the neck. Tegan snorted a little.

"Oh yeah. Tell yourself that. Basically, you can't keep your hands off me and you know it," Tegan said with false bravado, rolling Jamie onto her back.

"Yeah, we'll see about that," Jamie said. Tegan grinned.

"Both your legs are around me now," she pointed out needlessly as she lay on top of Jamie, her hips between Jamie's thighs.

"Yep," Jamie said with a shrug. "Whatever."

"Oh, _whatever, _did you say?" Tegan asked, propping herself up above Jamie's face. After a moment of looking into her eyes, Tegan kissed her again, and increased the pressure of her pelvis against Jamie's. A tiny sound came from Jamie's throat; Tegan maintained the pressure with her hips. She moved her face away from Jamie's, just a little.

"What?" she asked in a mock quiet voice.

"Hmm?" Jamie asked, very distracted by the pressure of Tegan's hips between her legs.

"You made a sound," Tegan said with a grin. "Like a tiny little moan."

"What? No way," Jamie scoffed, as Tegan's laughing eyes were on hers, Tegan's belly pulsing against hers with every breath.

"You did. It was like, _mmm. . ._"

"I was clearing my throat, maybe," Jamie said. Tegan smirked at her.

"You're kind of pink," Tegan said.

"You're kind of smug," Jamie replied.

"Why are you pink?"

"It's hot in here. Can you open a window?"

Tegan's mouth was on hers again, the kiss long and intense, and Jamie's hands moved up Tegan's sides, barely grazing the sides of her breasts, up her neck and into her hair. She crossed her ankles over Tegan's lower back.

Tegan looked at Jamie's face again, and this time she too was pink, and they were both a little breathless.

"If it's so _whatever,_" Tegan started, "why are your legs wrapped around me?" Jamie shrugged unconvincingly.

"It's comfortable," she said.

"It doesn't feel like _whatever _when you kiss me," Tegan said in a low voice, their faces close together.

"Oh yeah?" Jamie responded, trying but failing to keep her breathing even. "What does it feel like?"

"It feels like you want to. . ." Tegan didn't finish the sentence, but pressed her hips down against Jamie's again, and Jamie took a breath.

"Haha," Jamie breathed. "Speak for yourself. . ." Tegan's hand slid over the soft fabric of her shirt, up her ribs, and over her chest.

"Your nipples are hard," Tegan murmured. "Why is that?"

"It's cold in here," Jamie said.

"You just said it was hot," Tegan pointed out.

"Shut up," Jamie murmured back and, quite suddenly, rolled Tegan onto her back and kissed her hard, one thigh pressing down between Tegan's legs. Jamie placed one hand on Tegan's ribs, below her breast, and held it there, unmoving as they kissed, Tegan's hands sliding from Jamie's hips, tugging at her shirt. Another kiss, and Tegan released a slight, impatient whimper into Jamie's mouth, took hold of Jamie's hand, and clutched it, squeezed it against her own breast. Jamie smiled against Tegan's lips, briefly, heated more by the sensation of Tegan's soft flesh beneath her t-shirt, by the sensation of Tegan's hips pressing insistently up against her thigh.

"Jamie," Tegan suddenly said, taking a breath. "Will you. . . do something for me?" she asked, her face still flushed. Jamie nodded.  
"Yes," she said, letting Tegan get up, and Tegan kissed her once and quickly left the room. Jamie lay there, heat filling her up, catching her breath. Tegan came back, carrying a small, black drawstring bag. Jamie sat up on the bed, as Tegan climbed back onto it and, to Jamie's surprise, sat straddling her lap.

"What's. . . in the bag?" Jamie asked tentatively, almost knowing, feeling the warmth and weight of Tegan's body on her lap and all the things that did to her. Tegan didn't say anything but, after a pause, slowly drew out a leather harness with its silicone accessory. Tegan turned it over in her hands wordlessly and Jamie looked at her red cheeks, her dark eyes fixed on it. _Sara used that on her, _Jamie thought, with a little lurch in her guts.

"So, who. . ." Jamie started, getting a little bit shy again. Tegan met her eyes briefly, and guessed the rest of the sentence. She slid back a little and set the harness on Jamie's lap.

"Usually Sara-" Tegan started, flushed deeper, and stopped, biting her lower lip. Jamie looked up at her red face, kissed her lips again once, and then twice, feeling the urgency in the pressure of Tegan's lips. "Let me. . .um. . . can I. . .?" Tegan murmured, questioning, meeting Jamie's eyes quickly as Jamie nodded slightly. Tegan took hold of Jamie's shorts and peeled them down her thighs along with her underwear. Tossing the shorts aside, Tegan moved down Jamie's legs and slipped the harness over her feet, sliding up. Jamie held her breath, raised her knees up as Tegan moved the harness up her thighs and then fastened it around her hips, pulling on the D-rings until it was snug. Jamie said nothing, watched Tegan quietly working and when she was done, the strap-on was firmly attached to her pelvis, the base of it pressed against her. She felt both ridiculous and excited at the same time. She looked up at Tegan and saw a slightly different mix of arousal and shame. Jamie reached up and put one hand on the back of Tegan's neck and kissed her.

"Whatever you want," Jamie said in a low voice and, for a few seconds, their eyes met, and Tegan grasped her face, kissing her intensely. Jamie returned the kiss with equal intensity, peeling Tegan's shorts and underwear down her thighs with both hands. Tegan kicked them off, pressing her body down against Jamie's. Jamie's hands took hold of Tegan's hips; Tegan's hands moved through Jamie's hair and around her neck. There was more pressure behind this kiss than the others; when Tegan released Jamie from the kiss, they both took a breath, surprised, heated.

"Jamie, are you attracted to me?" Tegan asked her, voice husky, her mouth moving down to Jamie's neck.

"Yes. . . God. . ." Jamie said breathlessly as Tegan pulled Jamie's t-shirt over her head and cast it aside.

"Why?" Tegan breathed as Jamie did the same with Tegan's t-shirt.

"So many reasons," Jamie said, sliding her hands up Tegan's thighs, around to her ass.

"Tell me," Tegan said.

"Your mouth," Jamie said, looking up at Tegan's lips just above hers. Tegan kissed her again, and Jamie sucked on Tegan's lower lip just before Tegan's tongue brushed over hers again, the kiss deep and intense.

"What else?" Tegan murmured a few moments later, her breath heavy, their faces close together. Jamie slid her hands up Tegan's sides and stroked her breasts slowly, causing Tegan to close her eyes tight as she pressed her pelvis against Jamie, against the strap-on.

"These. . . and the rest of your body. . . all of it," Jamie breathed, and, quite suddenly, Tegan pushed Jamie back down on the bed, her mouth on Jamie's neck, her collarbone, her breasts. With one hand, Jamie reached down and took hold of the strap-on, which was pressed between her body and Tegan's, and pulled it upwards so that it pressed against the most sensitive part of Tegan. Tegan gasped, and met Jamie's eyes, her face pink and hot.

"_Come on,"_ Jamie said in a low voice. Tegan reached one hand down and took hold of it; Jamie grabbed Tegan's hips and eased her into position and, slowly exhaling, Tegan slid down onto the strap-on, squeezing Jamie's hips with her knees, the base of the strap-on pressing against Jamie. Jamie looked up at Tegan, leaning over her, her bangs falling over her eyes, as her hips slowly and insistently started rocking against Jamie's body. Jamie's hands gripped Tegan's thighs, her hips, pulling her down onto it as Tegan continued grinding against her; she watched Tegan's body moving over hers, at the urgent rolling of her hips, her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open, and that scene, coupled with the rhythmic pressure of the base of the strap-on against her body, flooded Jamie with throbbing heat. Tegan lowered her upper body closer to Jamie's and kissed her, the softness of her breasts pressed against Jamie's with each thrust of Tegan's hips, her breath raspy, moans deep in her throat, getting there, getting closer. Jamie could feel herself getting closer, too, as she felt Tegan's damp, hot face against her neck. Jamie's hands found their way back to Tegan's hips and, without pulling out, she deftly flipped Tegan over, onto her back, and pushed down into her.

_"Oooooh," _came Tegan's heavy moan as she clenched her thighs and locked her ankles around Jamie's lower back.

Jamie maintained Tegan's rhythm and intensified it, her hips thrusting deeper as Tegan's nails dug into her back. They gasped together, moaned together as Jamie's body responded to the pressure, to the movement of her hips against Tegan's body, to the heat and the slickness of their naked bodies sliding against each other to the sound of Tegan's moans intensifying painfully in her ears.

Jamie could see it happening; Tegan desperately rocking her hips in time with Jamie's; her head back; her mouth open just a little. Jamie lowered her face once more and gave her a long, deep kiss before increasing the pressure, the depth of the thrusts, watching Tegan's flushed face and feeling Tegan's thighs around her hips start to tremble. Her voice rose, higher, and her hands slid lower, grabbing Jamie's ass and pulling Jamie's body into her as she squeezed with her legs.

"_Oh. . ." _Tegan cried out, the redness in her face deepening, her head back. Jamie tasted the salty skin on Tegan's straining neck as Tegan gripped her ass more tightly. She felt the spasms in Tegan's thighs as she cried out again. _"Oh fuck!" _she gasped with each thrust of Jamie's hips, "_oh fuck. . . oh fuck. . . oh fuck. . . oh. . ._" She threw one arm around Jamie's neck, pulling her down tight and, with another convulsive cry of _"fuck_,_"_ biting into Jamie's shoulder. Jamie moaned in response as a few more thrusts carried her over the edge; she collapsed on top of Tegan with a startled cry, as the inside of her clenched and pulsed, Tegan's limbs still around her, their chests heaving together.

"_God," _Tegan breathed again as Jamie moaned again against her neck, and then her mouth. Jamie slid her hips and pressed into Tegan again, causing Tegan to shudder and gasp and grip the hot wet skin of Jamie's back. It was quicker this time; Jamie pressed inside of her, deeply, thrusting their hips together, steadily, then more quickly, and harder, until Tegan came again, with a sharp exhalation, a deep breath, and then a trembling cry. Jamie gasped too as Tegan squeezed her with her thighs, very tightly, Tegan's spasms shaking Jamie's body. Tegan's chest rose and fell against Jamie's; their naked bellies, hot and wet, pressed and pulsed together, rose and fell together as they lay there, Jamie on top of Tegan, Tegan's arms and legs wrapped around Jamie.

"_Oh," _she moaned again as Jamie kissed her, tasting her parched tongue. Jamie felt Tegan spasm again against her body, as they lay together, catching their breath. Tegan's face was still damp and flushed, her breathing quick and deep, when Jamie felt hands on her hips, pulling her, gripping her and, while she was still inside, Tegan pressing her hips up against Jamie's body. Jamie looked into Tegan's dark eyes; Tegan's thighs were still trembling slightly against her hips, and Tegan looked back at her intensely, unable to speak.

"More?" Jamie asked, her throat dry. Tegan just nodded, closing her eyes, breathing deeply through her mouth. Jamie leaned closer and kissed her for a few slow seconds; she shifted and pushed her hips down into Tegan again; Tegan took a breath, her face tense. When she shut her eyes tight, for a moment, Jamie stopped moving.

"Am I hurting you?" she asked, and Tegan grabbed and squeezed her hips again.

"Don't. . . stop," Tegan whispered intensely, so Jamie didn't. She pushed deeply and slowly and Tegan's arms encircled Jamie's back, gripping, squeezing as Jamie thrust into her again. The rhythm intensified as Tegan pulled Jamie to her, pressing up against her. Tegan found one of Jamie's hands, and their fingers clasped together. Tegan squeezed Jamie's hand, hard, as their bodies rocked together. Jamie watched Tegan's face as she slid into her, again and again, and while the tense, pained look on Tegan's face told her to stop, Tegan's free hand, grasping her body, holding onto her, told her otherwise. Tegan's breaths quickened and the sound through her clenched teeth became an agonizing moan. Jamie shifted her weight higher on Tegan's hips, so she could push even more deeply, pressing Tegan's knees back as she increased the movement of her hips. Tegan pulled her hand free and wrapped both arms around Jamie's body, squeezing with all four limbs as her gasping breaths changed to whimpers, and then words.

"_Oooooh fuck," _Tegan moaned, putting one hand around Jamie's neck and pulling her face down closer. Jamie did not relent, and soon she could feel tremors through Tegan's thighs around her waist, Tegan's hands trembling on her neck and face. "_Ooooooh," _came another pained cry, as Jamie struggled to maintain the rhythm despite another building wave inside of her in response to Tegan's red face and whimpering moans. Unable to stop it, she moaned as she started to come, and managed to thrust deeper and faster for a few more moments until Tegan's body tensed all over as she arched her back, squeezing Jamie hard enough to force the air out of her lungs, with a sharp gasp and a long, aching cry. Jamie felt the contractions inside of her mirrored more intensely by those that shook Tegan's body against hers, her head all the way back and eyes squeezed shut; they shuddered together, deep gasping breaths. Jamie wasn't aware of the tight grip Tegan had on her back until Tegan's body went limp and her grip softened. They lay there together, tangled up in each other, sweat cooling, as their breathing slowly returned to normal. Tegan's eyes were closed still, but the tension in her face was gone. She released her leg-hold on Jamie's waist, and took Jamie's face between her hands, kissing her tenderly once and then twice and then dropping her head back onto the pillow. Jamie could still feel Tegan's thighs trembling against hers; Tegan's belly, too, spasmed, more than once, and each time it did, she took a breath, and Jamie felt both against the hot, wet skin of her own stomach. Jamie lay still, inside, for a while longer, kissing Tegan softly and gently brushing the sweat from her forehead, until at last she slowly and carefully withdrew from Tegan's body.

"Ah-ah-ah," Tegan gasped, tensing up again as it left her.

"Are you okay?" Jamie asked her softly, and she nodded, breathless. Jamie smoothed her hair back again, kissed her hot face, her eyelids. Tegan placed a hand on Jamie's face and kissed her lips again.

"I love you," Jamie breathed, without thinking, before she could stop herself. Tegan, still breathing a little heavily, looked into her eyes.

"I know."


	14. A Crying Shame Not to Spend the Night

**Author's Note: I know you all have been begging for another chapter, so hopefully this doesn't disappoint! I'd love to hear your thoughts, as always. ;) Three thoughts for now: 1) Are any of you male? I always kind of wonder! 2) I loved your comments about alone time… hahaha… keep them up! ;) And 3) I always want to answer your comments, and it's a bummer when they're anonymous and I can't! Make a random screenname to comment with so I can answer you! #selfishwishoftheday And off we go…**

**Chapter 14: It's a Crying Shame Not to Spend the Night**

"This is so good," Jamie said, clicking on the next file. Tegan sat next to her, a bowl of mixed nuts in front of her.

"Mmhmm," she said, crunching on some cashews and almonds. "You're so good. It's good footage. Shit, though, why didn't anyone tell me I was singing out of tune? Fuck." Tegan said with a wince.

"Ah, you always make up for it, though," Jamie said, laughing and raising her eyebrows mischievously as she looked at Tegan.

"But, fuck. What's my job again? I forget. Messing up songs and telling long rambling stories about nothing or playing music?" Tegan asked, shaking her head at herself.

"Haha, both," Jamie laughed.

"- _I either sing it terribly out of tune and forget the whole thing or it's so fucking great a few people might die,_" came Tegan's voice from the computer monitor, and Jamie snorted. She looked at Tegan, who shook her head again.

"God. I'm sooooo funny and charming," she said sarcastically.

"And somehow I liked you anyway," Jamie replied thoughtfully, as Tegan made a face of mock offence and threw a peanut at her.

"-_my favourite person in the world_," Sara was saying onscreen. "_Dallas, from City and Colour_. . ." They watched, and Jamie couldn't help but smile as Sara got the crowd to say _holla!_ to Dallas Green, and then made a face of disgust and declared that she hated herself for doing it. The banter went on between the two of them, and Jamie chuckled.

"God, you guys are funny. Man," she mused, taking a few nuts from the bowl. "I just don't even know where you come up with this shit sometimes."

"-_we basically willed it; we like, manifested. . . death_," Sara said, and a moment later she was ordering Tegan to take off her guitar and hug her. Tegan made jokes about wearing tube tops and having back-up dancers on stage and Sara still insisted; Tegan handed her guitar to Shaun, fixed her shirt, smoothed her hair, tested her breath against her hand, nodded, and walked into Sara's open arms, to a wave of exuberant cheers and hundreds of bursts of camera flashes from the crowd. Sara patted Tegan's back and shoulders tentatively, and then Tegan buried her face in Sara's chest and clamped onto her as Sara struggled to get away, finally pushing Tegan's forehead off of her affectionately. The cheers were nearly hysterical.

"Man, the crowd loves it when you guys hug each other," Jamie said, and Tegan nodded. There was an awkward moment where Jamie regretted the comment, in light of everything, and then Tegan laughed.

"Yeah. Do you think they'd like it more if we like, made out on stage?"

"Maybe!" Jamie said with a laugh. Tegan laughed, too, her silent laugh with her head thrown back.

"God! Can you imagine? Ha. . ." she said. "That's not even funny."

"Well, it is and it isn't," Jamie suggested as they clicked on the next clip. There was a pause where they both thought, pondered.

"Well, you know. . ." Jamie started slowly. "There's like. . . um. . . a whole subculture of fans who, like, already think. . . already have all these theories about you guys, um, being together." Tegan looked at her in disbelief.

"Are you joking?" she asked. Jamie shook her head with a wry grin.

"Nope. They call it 'quincest'. . ."

"Ha!" Tegan laughed sarcastically. "Fuck, that's just too easy. . . jesus. . ." she said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "But come on, seriously, what kind of fucked up fans would. . . uh. . ." she started, and then stopped, awkwardly, embarrassed. "Right." Tegan picked through the bowl of nuts, picking out only the almonds, avoiding Jamie's eyes. She hesitated for a few moments. "I still wonder, I mean. . . it's okay but like, it amazes me that you aren't. . . disgusted," Tegan said awkwardly, not looking at Jamie. Jamie looked at her, struggled a little with her own embarrassment, but then decided it was more important to say it.

"You know, honestly it was, uh. . . seeing it. . . I mean, seeing you two, together. . . it was. . . kind of. . .um. . . hot," she said, blushing furiously. They both kept their eyes on the computer screen for a moment, a welcome focal point. "And, really, not just _kind of. . ." _

"Seriously?" Tegan asked doubtfully, shaking her head, embarrassed. "God, I still can't believe you saw that. . ." She winced and took a deep breath, eyes dropping to the floor.

"Yeah and I know that's. . . weird. . . but it's. . . I mean, it was a complicated feeling, but it was definitely. . . hot." Tegan listened, biting her lower lip, her brow knotted. The flush of shame returned to her features as she anxiously rolled an almond between her fingers.

"But like. . . you have a sister, right?" she asked slowly, cautiously.

"Yes," Jamie replied.

"So would you-"

"No," Jamie said, too quickly. "I mean, we're not. . . it's not the same thing, like. . ."

"Well then. . ." Tegan said, still staring at the floor, afraid to finish her own sentence.

"I don't know. You guys are just. . . different," she said, somewhat at a loss. Tegan looked at her hesitantly, gave a little nod, and looked back at the floor. Jamie absently stroked Tegan's thigh reassuringly, her fingers sliding under the fabric of Tegan's shorts.

"Wow, look at that," Tegan mused, looking down at Jamie's hand. Jamie looked too, at where her hand had pushed the leg of Tegan's shorts high enough up her thigh to reveal several fresh bruises.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. . ." Jamie said, alarmed, gently lifting the other leg of Tegan's shorts to reveal similar discolouration on the inner part of her other thigh. "I'm really sorry. Oh my God. . . Did I. . . do any other damage?" Jamie asked, wincing slightly, meeting Tegan's eyes again.

"Nothing I didn't ask for," Tegan said with a grin, and kissed her quickly. Jamie kissed her back, her hand tracing cautiously over the purple marks on Tegan's leg. "Oh no, I wonder if I. . ." Tegan asked suddenly, turning Jamie in her chair and lifting the back of her shirt up to her shoulder blades. "Wow, holy shit!" Tegan exclaimed. "Haha, oh man. You've got finger marks, like. . ." Tegan's fingers gingerly touched the marks on Jamie's back. "Oops, scratches. . ." she said sheepishly, "sorry. . . ". Jamie laughed. "Does it hurt?"

"No, I didn't even-"

There was a rattling at the door, a clunking, shuffling song of someone coming in, dragging bags, bashing into the door jam, dropping things onto the hardwood.

"Hey, I hope you're not naked because I'm coming in. . ." Sara said, and Jamie and Tegan turned to her with a start, staring at her, as Jamie yanked her hand off of Tegan's leg and quickly pulled her shirt back down. Sara dropped her bag on the floor. "Whew, yuck, I thought I was going to get my organs stolen on the bus. Seriously, Tegan, could you have picked a sketchier area to live in? Like, I know we're not rich but it's like, it's kind of like you wanted to live in the worst possible neighbourhood, like you thought maybe you wouldn't get Jehovah's Witnesses knocking at your door because they'd be afraid of getting eaten," Sara rambled, going into the washroom, washing her hands and her face and coming out again, as Tegan and Jamie watched, frozen. "Hey Jamie," she said with a smile, going into the kitchen and taking a bottle of Orangina out of the fridge. "Shit, Tegan, do you ever buy food?"

"Um. . . no," Tegan said, looking at the bowl of nuts in her hands. Sara grabbed her bag and headed to Tegan's room.

"I'll just leave my stuff in here so that-" she stopped. Tegan and Jamie watched her from their positions in front of the computer, still glued to the spot, speechless. Sara stared into the bedroom, the bed with its twisted sheets, clothes all over the floor that definitely didn't belong to Tegan. A feeling of dread washing over her, Jamie frantically tried to remember where the strap-on had ended up. "Oh," Sara said. She half turned, turned back, half turned again, met Tegan's eyes. There was a moment, Jamie's heart in her throat, where she thought something would break, and she suppressed the overwhelming urge to dart under the table, to hide, half-expecting Sara to lash out at her as she'd seen her lash out at Tegan in the hotel room, resulting in Tegan's two black eyes. Sara's eyes on Tegan's, hurt, and then, blank. "Okay, um. . ." Sara said casually, walking back out and carrying her bag around the corner to the spare bedroom. Tegan looked at Jamie anxiously, and Jamie bit her bottom lip, eyes wide, terror still heavy in her chest, wishing Tegan would tell her what to do. But Tegan sat, tensely frozen, eyes on the guest room door. Sara was still inside. There was no sound, no movement, nothing, and Jamie could almost see the thoughts reeling through Tegan's mind like cards through a Rolodex.

A moment more of silence and Sara emerged with a tight smile and came in, sat heavily on the sofa. Jamie couldn't move.

"So," Sara said brightly. "Getting a lot of, um, editing done?" Tegan looked at her, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, we're getting there," Tegan said.

"Good!" Sara said. "Jamie, are you liking Vancouver?" A polite smile, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Yeah, I haven't really seen much. . ." she started hesitantly, and Sara listened, earnestly. "Um, we've been editing. . ." Jamie could feel her face heat up.

"Good," Sara said lightly. "That's what you came for. Well," she went on, all normalcy, all calmness. "I wasn't in the mood for rubber chicken so I didn't eat on the plane. Are you guys hungry?" Tegan looked down again at the bowl of nuts.

"Yeah," she said, and Jamie thought that she'd never seen them interact so awkwardly before. Even when they fought, there was nothing like this hesitation, this uncertainty. Usually, all of their fighting seemed to involve just the two of them, in their own private world. . . but here she was, right in the middle of it.

"Okay then!" Sara said. "There's the shawarma place around the corner, some good sushi a few blocks down. . ." Jamie shuddered. "Okay," Sara laughed. "Oh, that Mexican place on Abbott is good. . ."

"Let's have Mexican," Tegan said, and Jamie felt the anxiety in her voice, like a vibration you couldn't hear, but could feel in your guts. _If you have any left,_ Jamie thought.

The Mexican place was small and busy and the food was good, but not as good as in Texas or California, Jamie thought. She winced and shuddered again when Tegan poured hot sauce all over her enchiladas. Sara ordered a Mexican beer with lime in it; Tegan had something mango-y with no alcohol in solidarity with Jamie; when Sara's face was buried in the drinks menu, Tegan gave Jamie a wink, but fidgeted with the paper sleeve from her straw, folding it over and over into an accordion shape.

"Well, cheers," Sara said, raising her bottle. Tegan and Jamie clinked their fruity glasses against Sara's Corona and they all drank.

"You were great in that video. . . with The Reason?" Jamie said when it seemed like they were not going to speak. She thought it might almost be preferable if they were fighting, rather than this polite silence. Tegan's hands were constantly moving and Jamie wanted to put her hand on Tegan's, say something comforting, but she couldn't. She didn't know what she could do, really. Sara knew she'd been sleeping in Tegan's bed; Sara didn't know that Jamie knew about their situation. . . which was probably why she was acting so polite; if Jamie _didn't_ know about the situation, Sara would have no ostensible reason for being angry. Jamie recalled the fight in the Safeway parking lot, and Sara's assertion that sleeping with Casey had nothing to do with Tegan, that they were two things unrelated. Would she think the same thing about this, now? The butterflies in Jamie's stomach couldn't decide.

"Oh, you saw that?" Sara asked, surprised. Tegan made a face.

"Of course we saw it," she said, her tone incredulous, and Sara met her eyes, unwavering for several seconds before faltering and looking down to her beer label.

They ate, the silence only broken when Sara looked up to ask polite, meaningless questions, the kind of questions one would ask someone at a bus stop or in a dentist's waiting room, the way you talk to someone when you don't know them, and not the way you talk to someone when you share everything with them: share their DNA, share their face, share a soul. Once again, Jamie felt like an intruder, but then Tegan put a hand on her knee and squeezed, and she held her breath. Sara didn't notice or pretended not to.

They walked the three blocks back to the apartment, stopping along the way at the government liquor store where Sara bought a few huge bottles of Japanese beer. At the apartment, Sara asked if she could watch TV, like a guest. She offered to share her beer with Tegan and Jamie, who passed, and they all sat and watched TV: the local news, a glossy American crime drama, an insipid sitcom with a stupid laugh track. Nobody spoke; nobody laughed. Jamie sat on the long, leather sofa between the two of them, her thoughts tumbling over each other like children rolling down a hill. _What will happen when it's time to go to bed?_ she wondered. _Obviously I won't be going to bed with Tegan and sending Sara off to the guest room. . . Are they going to fight? They aren't speaking. Are they going to touch each other? They haven't touched each other at all. They must want to. Tegan is so edgy. . ._

Tegan sat on Jamie's left, biting her nails. Jamie took hold of her hand, and gently lowered it. Tegan wordlessly submitted to it as she always did. When Jamie returned her eyes to the TV, she could see Sara, in her periphery, looking over at Tegan momentarily, and then back to the TV. The only thing she thought she could do that might enable something to happen was to leave them alone. After a moment of thinking over where to go, she realized she needed to go to Tegan's room, where they all knew she'd been sleeping, where her clothes were scattered far and wide. And Sara's bags were in the guest room. If she went first and closed the door, they would decide on their own what should happen.

"Uh, I think I'll go to bed," she said, stretching. "Okay? Goodnight guys."

"Goodnight," Tegan said, nervously.

"Night, Jamie," Sara said, and she went to Tegan's room and closed the door.

Jamie didn't wake up when Tegan came to bed, and Tegan didn't wake her. She half-awoke on her own before sunrise and saw Tegan sitting in the window seat, looking down into the street below. Tegan's still, pensive silhouette was printed on her retinas when she closed her eyes again.

The next day, Jamie went along to film an appearance they made with just the two of them at a local radio station. They were funny and charming as always and she didn't think anyone would be able to notice the change in the energy between them. They played five songs, told some amusing anecdotes, and afterwards signed some posters and CDs and took pictures with fans. Jamie recorded it all, recalling countless times when she'd been the one waiting in line in the cold to be admitted to such an event. It was good to have a job to do and to not be at the apartment, waiting for them to fight, waiting for Sara to stop pretending to be fine, waiting for Tegan to cry. She watched them maneuver around each other in an awkward dance of avoidance. Sara was coolly polite; Tegan's cracks were showing.

. . . . . . .

"I think it will be better once you add the lemon," Sara observed, leaning around Jamie to see. Jamie continued mashing the avocados, a displeased expression on her face.

"I hope so. I just think they're not ripe enough," she said, pausing to look at the lumpy green mess. "There are lots of hard bits in them."

"Yeah, it's so hard to tell if they're ripe before you cut them open." Sara placed the lemon down on the counter next to Jamie. "Um. . . salt, cilantro, and. . . " she continued, her head in the fridge. Tegan had run down to Whole Foods to get some tortilla chips, leaving Jamie and Sara alone. Jamie half-expected Sara to bring something up with her, but Sara was maintaining the polite distance of the last couple of days. Tegan continued sleeping in the same bed with Jamie, but things were not the same. The nakedness had obviously stopped. Tegan was tense and strained, anxious. Jamie couldn't help but wonder if Tegan was lying in bed with her and wanting to be in bed with Sara. She wanted to talk to Tegan about what was happening, but she didn't know how or where to start. It was such a bewildering situation; Sara and Tegan didn't even so much as brush against each other. They hardly spoke. Jamie feared what kind of destruction would ensue if the dam finally broke. Would she be intervening again, pulling them off of each other while they made each other bleed? Would blunt objects be involved this time? Did they have 911 in Canada? This time though, it would be her fault. Part of her wanted to say something to Sara, to acknowledge this situation, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"So," Sara said after a while, watching Jamie mix in the lemon juice. "Back on the bus in a few days. . . looking forward to it?"

"Yeah," Jamie said. "I mean. . . I love seeing you guys play and recording the shows, so. . ."

"Sleeping on the bus, though. Kind of a drag," Sara suggested, and Jamie smiled nervously, continued mixing.

"I guess I haven't been doing it long enough for it to be a drag for me, yet."

"You aren't sick of _us_ yet?" Sara asked, seemingly guileless, taking a bit of the almost-ready guacamole with her finger.

"Nah," Jamie said. She met Sara's eyes and gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She was suddenly struck with the desire to hug Sara. And, maybe, to apologize to her. "I love being around you guys, and the boys."

"Even when we're punching each other?" Sara asked ironically.

"Ha, well, it is definitely _better _when you're _not_ punching each other. But the punching was just once. That's not so bad, considering. . ." she trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence, afraid she'd already said too much. She mixed the guacamole in earnest, her face heating, Sara's eyes on her in the periphery.

"Yeah, considering. . ." Sara started when Tegan came in with two bags from Whole Foods, her hair wet.

"Raincouver," Sara said. "Rainy and boring."

"It's not boring," Tegan said, opening the fridge and emptying the contents of the bags into it.

"Jamie, don't you think Vancouver is boring?" Sara asked innocently. In a flash, scenes from the last two weeks flitted through Jamie's mind, and prominent among them was the image of Tegan's naked body rocking against hers, her hair falling in her eyes.

"Uh, well-"

"Yeah," Tegan started with more of her forced-cheerful tone. "Vancouver was so _boring _for Sara that she had to run off to Montreal by herself." Tegan opened the bag of corn chips, poured some into a big plastic bowl. "Right Sara? Nothing to keep you _here _in this _boring _town. . ." Tegan carried the plastic bowl to the coffee table and Sara sat there with a tense, forced smile. Her eyes flicked up to Jamie's and then away.

"Sometimes, we just do what we have to do to stay sane," Sara said flatly to the room. Jamie ground some fresh pepper into the guacamole and waited for Tegan to say something.

"True. How's that working out for you, then?" she asked. Sara spoke over her shoulder.

"Great. Thanks for asking."

"Well good for you," Tegan said.

They sat together and watched a movie on TV, which was fine because that took away the pressure to talk, and all the weirdness associated with_ not_ talking about the elephant in the room. Jamie sat between them again, like a buffer. Late in the film, when Tegan fell asleep and her head dropped onto Jamie's shoulder, Jamie could see Sara's eyes on them, and then back to the screen, and she felt a pang of guilt and a pang of sadness for Sara. A while later, when Sara too had closed her eyes and Tegan had shifted and lay with her head on the arm of the chair, Jamie got up quietly and went to the bedroom, but felt too anxious to sleep. She changed into an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts and flipped her laptop open. Three hundred and seventy eight unanswered emails. She sighed, scrolling through all the tirades from her mother, clicking on a few newsy, friendly emails from friends. She didn't know where to start to answer the messages from fellow fans, those who had traveled around and had gone to shows with her and were now desperate for information, for details, and some of them were outright resentful that she was not forthcoming. It made her tired, just looking at her inbox. She put her computer aside and turned out the light.


	15. Look Your Age but You Don't Act the Type

**Author's Note: In honor of Tegan and Sara's 32nd birthday, I bring you Chapter 15! Enjoy! Comment challenge of the day: Respond with your favorite line from the story so far! You know you want to… and I like that kind of thing.**

**Chapter 15: You Look Your Age but You Don't Act the Type**

A kiss is a good sensation to awake to. Jamie was deeply asleep, and perhaps for a moment she dreamed someone was kissing her, and perhaps that person was Tegan. And then, gradually, her conscious mind started to tap on her shoulder. _Hey, _it said, _you are not dreaming. Someone is actually kissing you. _Her unconscious mind started to realize it, and started the slow process of dragging her to the surface. She could do very little to return the kiss, in the deep sleep haze she was in, but it took only a moment of conscious awareness before she realized that the person kissing her was not Tegan. The lips pressed against hers, soft but insistent, and when she opened her eyes, she met Sara's.

"Oh," Jamie said, startled. "Oh!" Sara lifted her face and looked down at Jamie's, serious, confused. "Sara, what are you. . .?"

"What the. . ." Tegan's voice came from the other side of Jamie as she sat up with a start, and Sara met Tegan's eyes. "Sara, what the fuck are you doing?" Tegan asked. "Are you drunk?" Jamie looked at Sara, who was looking at Tegan, and understood.

"I'm not. . . I don't. . ." Sara whispered, shook her head. She looked pained, conflicted, leaning on one elbow, on Jamie's right side. Tegan, half-asleep, messy-haired, propped herself up on one hand, on Jamie's left side, and they stared at each other. Jamie lay on her back between them, looking up at their faces with a wriggling sensation in her stomach.

"It's okay," Jamie said, not knowing who she was saying it to or what she was saying it about, exactly. An instant later, to her surprise, Sara leaned closer to Tegan and, after a slight pause, Tegan leaned the rest of the way and pressed her lips against Sara's. Sara's free hand lifted and moved to Tegan's cheek, as she pulled Tegan closer and kissed her back, intensely, the weight of days of waiting seeming to overcome her. Jamie lay there with her eyes wide open, on their silhouettes just above her, her body unmoving. Warmth seeped all through her as they kissed for a long moment and then, just as suddenly, Sara released her grip on Tegan and jerked away, looked at her, looked at Jamie. The expression that crossed her face was not one that Jamie could describe in one adjective, but the primary ingredient was fear. She got up off the bed quickly, and left the room.

"Sara," Tegan said after her, and Jamie's mind was quickly flooded with silver moonlight and all that she had seen from the hayloft.

"Go with her," Jamie said to Tegan. Tegan looked at her for a long moment, and then quickly followed Sara, pulling the door closed behind her. She heard muffled voices, and then louder voices. Not loud, but loud enough.

"-in there," she heard, catching just the end. "What are you doing, Sara?" Tegan's voice, strained.

"Come on, keep it down," Sara said, and Jamie slipped out of the bed and crept to the door, pressed her ear to it. _ I've overheard and accidentally seen so much in the last few months that this time, I'm just listening in and that's all there is to it._ She very gingerly, very quietly turned the knob and pushed the door open an inch. The sofa was around the other side of a wall and they wouldn't see her there. She stood silently, next to the crack in the door.

"You don't really know how things have been!" Tegan said.

"But. . . what are _you_ doing? That girl is in love with you and you're fucking with her-"

"I'm not-" Tegan said, her voice tense, and then pausing, and taking a breath. "You don't know what you're talking about! You weren't here!"

"But you are _fucking_ her, yes? Right?" Sara asked.

"Who are you concerned about, here? Jamie, or yourself?" Tegan asked, a note of challenge, with an edge of pain. There was a pause.

"You, actually," Sara said sharply. There was another pause. She heard a deep sigh.

"I mean, I understand if you want to. . . get back at me. . . because of Casey," Sara said, her voice somewhat shaky. "I deserve it and I'm sorry-"

"That's not what happened! And you. . . you remember what you said to me at the airport? You said. . . _it's wrong and it has to stop _and I. . . what was I supposed to. . ." Tegan's voice faltered.

"Tegan. . ."

"It was so. . . fucked up and. . . I don't. . . I don't know," Tegan's voice was shaking; Jamie could hear her starting to lose control, trying to contain it.

"But it's true, isn't it?" Sara asked. There was a pause.

"I don't know what's true anymore," Tegan choked in a strangled voice.

"Hey, Tee, don't cry," Sara said, and Jamie heard movement, rustling. "Ssshhh, hey," Sara said softly.

"God, what are we going to do?" Tegan asked tearfully, the desperation in her voice piercing Jamie's heart, again. She envisioned Sara's arms around Tegan, Tegan crying into her shoulder.

"I don't know. . ." Sara said quietly. "But we aren't alone here and we need to. . . try to keep it together-"

"She knows," Tegan said abruptly, sniffling. "Jamie." There was a pause. There was a pause long enough for Jamie to breathe in, hold her breath, and wait longer than was comfortable.

"What?" came Sara's voice at last, quiet.

"She knows and. . . it's fine. She's fine," Tegan said. "And, I mean, she was just in. . . she just saw-"

"Oh my God," Sara said hoarsely, much the way Tegan had said it a few days earlier when Jamie revealed that she had known. "But she knows about. . . more. . .? Everything. . .?" Tegan nodded. "Oh, Jesus Christ. . . I think I'm going to be sick. . ."

"Yeah, I got sick when Jamie told me she knew, ha. . ."

"Oh my God, Tegan, this is not funny." Sara said, and Jamie could hear the panic rising in her voice.

"It kind of is, when you think about it," Tegan said, laughing humourlessly. "Hey. . . it's okay-"

"It's not okay! God, Tegan. . . how? How did she find out?" Another pause.

"She saw us. . . in the hotel," Tegan said hesitantly. There was a moaning sound from Sara.

"Hooooooly fuck, Tegan! Oh God. . . oh fuck. . ."

"Hey, take it easy-"

"She saw? She saw us. . . oh my God. Oh God. She's. . . she's part of our crew. . ."

"I trust her," Tegan said simply.

"Well, me too but. . . did you find this out before or after you . . um. . ." Sara's voice sounded weak and tremulous.

"After," Tegan answered, exhaling loudly.

"Wow. Um. . . fuck," Sara said. "And. . . she still wanted to. . . be with you?"

"Ha," Tegan said, bitterly. "Somehow. . ."

A pause.

"Tegan. . . do you love her?" Jamie's heart lurched, and she hoped nobody could hear it. Part of her wanted to close the door, to never hear the answer, but she just stood, immobilized. The pause was long enough to be painful.

"What difference does that make?" Tegan asked at last.

"Tegan, it makes all the difference!"

"Why? It's like asking. . . a panda. . . if it loves. . . coconuts," Tegan said. There was a pause before Sara's perplexed response.

"_What?_"

"Well, you know? Maybe the fucking panda loves coconuts, you know, and if the panda lived in a different world and had a different life where it even fucking mattered what he loved and he could choose what he loved, he would choose fucking coconuts," Tegan said vehemently. "But the fucking panda doesn't live in that world! He lives in a world where there's only one food for him, where there's only one way he can live because he was, like, genetically designed that way and that food is bamboo and only bamboo and if he can't have bamboo, well. . . he'll fucking die. No matter how much he loves the coconuts, well, he'll die if he doesn't have bamboo and that's just the fucking reality of the situation. So, yeah, maybe I do, you know. . ." Tegan drew a heavy breath. "Maybe I do love her but it just doesn't make a difference." Jamie leaned against the door frame and took a deep breath.

"Tegan. . ." Sara said in a low voice. "I don't- hey, hey, it's okay. . ." Jamie could hear Tegan's quick, shaky breaths. "Come here. . ." She heard Tegan's muffled sobs, Sara's soft voice. Jamie quietly closed the door.

Jamie lay curled up on the bed for a long time without moving, thinking about pandas and bamboo and coconuts and the tight ache in her chest. Which part of the sentence carried more weight? The _maybe_ or the _love_? She asked herself that for a moment before she realized it didn't make a difference. She thought of the kiss she had just witnessed, thought of its intensity, of its confusion, of the fear in Sara's eyes and the sadness in Tegan's. She wondered how on earth she had ended up in the middle of these two. It was like trying to put one's fingers between two poles of an electromagnet. She couldn't lie there staring at the wall any longer, feeling that sting and wondering if she was an idiot. She needed to go outside and feel that sting and wonder if she was an idiot in a wider space with fresh air.

There was silence from the living room; she opened the door and peered around the corner to see them together on the sofa, their tiny figures taking up less than half of its space. They were asleep, lying stretched out, facing each other. Tegan's hand was clutching the front of Sara's shirt; one of Sara's arms was wrapped around Tegan's waist. Their faces were close together. Jamie thought of every time she had seen them on stage together before she had ever known. . . any of this. Her brain simply could not connect those experiences to the one she was having right now, looking down at their twin tear-stained faces, peaceful in sleep. She stared at them for another moment, and then took the blanket from the back of the sofa and covered them both with it.

She walked out into the damp night, and after taking a couple of aimless turns, crossed under a red Chinese gate and into Chinatown. The shops were all closed; she peered in windows of Chinese dry goods shops with big barrels of tiny shrimp and jars of powdered everything, passed the shop that proudly sold damaged appliances, and was asked for change three times. She wandered through Sun Yat Sen Park and spent a few minutes with the doctor's statue. In the 7-11 across the street, she bought some iced tea, and completed her wide circle back to Tegan's building. When she approached, she saw Sara sitting on a bench in the grassy area to the side of the building. She looked small, sitting there alone under the lamppost in her black hoody. She saw Jamie approach and waved. Jamie waved back, somewhat uncertainly, and hesitantly walked over. She would much rather have escaped but didn't know how she could possibly avoid a conversation with Sara, if Sara wanted one. She apprehensively wondered how the rest of Sara's conversation with Tegan had gone once she had closed the bedroom door.

"Hey. . ." she said awkwardly to Sara. Sara slid down a little on the bench, indicating that Jamie should sit, and she did. There was a concrete fountain a little ways off, and a slim woman in yoga gear and flip flops was walking along the edge of the square, shallow pool with a French bulldog.

"Nice walk?" Sara asked as they both idly watched the woman with her dog.

"Yeah. Kind of damp," Jamie said. Sara laughed.

"Uh huh. I start to feel moldy when I stay here for too long. I don't know why Tegan likes it so much. . ." Jamie felt the weight of Tegan's name in the air between them, and she swallowed. "So, um, Jamie, actually, I didn't bring you here to talk about the shitty Vancouver weather," she went on in a forced serious voice that made them both laugh, although somewhat nervously. Jamie looked at her cuticles and went to pick at them, but stopped herself. Sara turned a little to face her more directly on the bench. Jamie suddenly felt the urge to apologize to Sara, or to run away, or maybe to cry. She did none of those things, but waited for a moment with her heart in her throat. "This is awkward, isn't it? Let's not have it be awkward, though. Let's just talk. Okay? We're friends. So let's talk."

"I think that's a good idea," Jamie said nervously, not totally believing it. Sara drew a deep breath.

"Yeah. So I talked to Tegan and. . . I really feel like there are a lot of things I want to say to you. . . to explain to you maybe. . . to ask you. . . but I feel like first I want to apologize to you." Jamie looked at her earnest brown eyes in surprise.

"I don't think you have anything to apologize to me for," Jamie replied doubtfully, and got a slight deja-vu shiver up her spine from a time when she was much more innocent in the situation Sara was apologizing for. Sara bent down and plucked a dandelion from the grass at her feet and held it, fiddling with it, pulling at its petals.

"No, I mean, I feel like I came here and made things very uncomfortable and. . ."

"No, if anyone should apologize, it's me," Jamie said. "This is. . . kind of. . . your home," she continued, hesitant because what she meant was _Tegan is your home _but couldn't say that.

"No, it's Tegan's house and. . . no! I mean, you shouldn't feel bad for being here, it's. . . God, how do I start. . ." Sara rambled anxiously. Jamie leaned back and put her hands in the pockets of her hoody as Sara pulled petals off of the dandelion one by one.

"Well maybe just. . . I mean, don't worry about. . ." Jamie struggled with the words, lost her courage.

"Okay," Sara said and took a moment. "I guess. . . I mean, Tegan told me that. . ." Her voice started to falter; she leaned forward, hunched, with her elbows on her knees. "Tegan said that you. . . know. . .uh. . . " She stared at her shoes and failed to finish her sentence, her face quickly reddening.

Jamie paused, trying to think of the way to answer that would upset Sara the least. "Yeah," she finally said. And then, tentatively, "I guess I've. . . known for a few months." Sara looked like she would speak, but stopped, reformulated, stopped again.

"Wow, uh. . ." She exhaled slowly. "It must seem really fucked up and twisted to you, I just can't even imagine. . . what you must. . . but. . . uh. . ." Jamie watched her profile, heard the tremor in her voice as she refused to meet Jamie's eyes.

"No," Jamie said quietly, shaking her head. "I mean, at first, I was. . ." - she chose her words carefully - "shocked, I guess. It took time to. . . reconcile things in my mind. I just think. . . I mean, whose place is it to judge who a person loves. . . how a person feels or. . . what two adults do. . . um. . . it's nobody's business." Sara swallowed, nodded, didn't turn her head.

"But if you had known when you. . . all those years you supported us, uh. . . what. . ." Sara's voice trembled again, "what would you have thought of us?"

"I. . ." Jamie paused, thinking, and then continued, "I think I. . . I would have thought the same. . ." Sara listened quietly and nodded again.

"I think it's. . . I think you're a very, unusually. . . um. . . understanding person and, well, if the broader world knew about, um. . . we would lose everything. Our family would be. . . they would just never _recover. . ._" Sara's voice dropped off to a whisper.

"I. . . yeah. . . yeah, I know," Jamie said quietly. "But. . . the broader world is never going to learn about it from me. I hope you can find a way to, like. . . not worry about that. There's nothing I've ever cared about more than, um. . . than you guys feeling like you could trust me." Jamie could not recall ever wanting to bite her nails more than she did at that moment, but the tension in Sara's jaw slackened, a little. The lines in her forehead smoothed out a little, too. She leaned back.

"Well, Tegan trusts you and I. . . I just mean, she knows you, uh, better than I do and um. . . she's completely not, like, she's not worried at all about you knowing and so, that's good enough for me." Jamie gave it a moment and then gave a very brief laugh.

"She threw up when I told her, though," Jamie said.

"Oh God. . ." Sara said with a slightly anxious laugh. "I think you've had, uh, quite a time of it with Tegan. I mean, just like, she said she's been uh. . . kind of a mess." Jamie felt for Sara and her obvious difficulty in getting across what she wanted to say, but there was no easy bridge from where she was to where she was going.

"Yeah, she's had a rough time," Jamie said.

"And I think you've really. . . you've really helped her. I mean, God, that sounds wrong-"

"It's okay," Jamie said, Sara's anxiety magnifying her own.

"I just mean like, I think she really needed someone and I'm really glad. . . holy fuck, everything sounds wrong."

"Maybe that's because, um. . . well. . . it's kind of. . . hard to say."

"That's a fucking fact," Sara laughed, and Jamie smiled at her, a little awkwardly.

"Well, maybe. . . maybe like, just. . . say what you want and like. . . don't worry. . ." Jamie said, uncertain. Sara thought about that.

"I don't even know if that's easier. I guess, I mean, like, um. . . I never. . . I can't believe I'm even talking. . . um. . . about this. To you. Or. . . anyone. I never thought I would ever talk to anyone about this. . . ever. But we are really. . . Tegan and I are, we're, like, we're _stuck. . ." _Jamie could feel the frustration of trying to express something that was too big to cram into an English sentence. Sara shook her head. "I feel like I really want you to understand. Like, I care what you think of us and you've known us for a long time and it matters what you think about us. So even though you said. . . what you said about how we're adults and all that, it's like, I really want to tell you. . . ah. . . fuck," Sara rambled, not daring to even meet Jamie's look.

"Okay. Tell me," Jamie said gently.

"Tegan is. . . it's like we're. . . we're the same. And I don't mean like, we have the same _personality _or the same, like, face, or whatever. . ." Sara started, uncertainty. " I mean we're the same. We're the same _thing._ We're the same _stuff. _She's my. . . she's me. And I'm her. We're each other's. And we're _each other._ She's me and she's. . . _mine._" Sara raised her hands in front of her and interlocked her fingers, her hands clenching each other tightly. "I can't. . . it's not like, I just feel like language can't, like, encompass what I mean. It's not like. . . uh. . . being in love with someone. It's like being. . . part of each other. Being half of each other. Being. . . fuck," she said, and shook her head. "Words are so useless." She flushed deeply and looked down. Jamie was moved, for a moment, to think that Sara's need to make Jamie understand was stronger than her embarrassment over telling it. And, more powerful still, her need to make Jamie understand it was more powerful than her shame over _feeling _it. And for a moment, it felt deeply sad to Jamie that someone would feel so much shame over something that seemed, just then, really quite beautiful.

"You're doing fine," Jamie said. She paused. "I mean, you were supposed to be one thing. But you're two. Maybe you're. . . trying to put yourselves back together. . ." Jamie mused, and Sara bit her lip, nodded. Jamie glanced over at her, out of the corner of her eye. She saw Sara's hands tremble as she played with the now-mutilated dandelion.

"I've been in love, you know? I was in love with Emy. I really was, for a long time. But in the end it's just. . . like it doesn't matter because, like, my heart isn't even. . . _mine_ to, like. . . give. To another person. Tegan owns it, all of it. . ." Sara's voice dropped down to a quiet murmur with those last few words, as Jamie swallowed the swelling sensation in her throat.

"Well, that's a pretty good way to put it. . ." she said. "And Tegan is like. . . totally _lost_ without you. I mean, really, _really_ lost." Sara nodded and closed her eyes, looking pained. Jamie wished she could do something to alleviate some of her intense mortification, but didn't see how. "God, it's. . . I can't even like. . . believe. . . that this all doesn't, um. . . make you want to, just, get as far away from us as possible. . ." She tried to laugh a little, at the suggestion, but the edge in her voice betrayed her; there was no humour in it. There was disbelief, and fear, and so much self-loathing that it made Jamie's heart ache.

"Well, it doesn't. Even when. . . in the beginning, when it was shocking, I, um. . . I never felt that way," Jamie said, looking at Sara's profile, the tension in her jaw as she pressed her lips together, the flush from her cheeks, down her neck and into her chest. Sara didn't look back.

"Wow. But I think, like. . . I guess everyone else in the world would be like. . . ill," Sara murmured, her eyes on her shaking hands as she turned and twisted the unfortunate dandelion.

"I don't think that anyone could. . . um. . . talk to you like this, and hear what you're saying and. . . still feel that way." Jamie saw the ripple of surprise pass over Sara's face, but she still didn't look at Jamie, but brushed the dandelion across her lips as she blinked away the shininess that Jamie's words were bringing to her eyes.

"Why. . . it's. . . why do you think that?" Sara asked, trying to look like she wasn't choking back tears. "I think most people. . . like. . . it's fucked. It's _disgusting_. . . we're. . . disgusting." She closed her eyes, shook her head a little. Her lips twisted in her continued effort not to cry, and it pinched Jamie's heart.

"No. It's. . . I mean it's still. . . love. You know? There's nothing disgusting about that." Jamie said.

"Yeah, but, she's my. . . we're. . . " Sara couldn't summon the word.

"But it's still love. And I don't even know. . . I don't even think I've ever, um. . . like, even seen anything. . . I mean, really, I'm kind of. . . jealous," Jamie admitted. "I'm not jealous of the, um. . . the situation you guys are in and the way that you 're. . . _suffering_ over it. Obviously. . . but I don't think I. . . I don't think most people will ever be loved the way that you love Tegan, and the way she loves you. So. . . you know? That kind of thing. . . can't be. . . disgusting." Jamie struggled over her words, not wanting to lose it right there with Sara, but the truth of all of it was striking her and she felt the sting of it. Sara sighed.

"Wow. I think you're. . . just. . . maybe if you think other people feel like that, I wonder if you're a bit. . . naive." Jamie gave a short laugh.

"Maybe I am," she shrugged. Sara laughed too, very shortly. There was a pause where neither of them spoke, or looked at each other.

"And, um. . . the other thing I guess I wanted to talk to you about was, um, Casey," Sara said. Jamie gave Sara a look of surprise.

"Okay," she said.

"Because, like, I think you must really think I'm. . . like a really terrible person," Sara started, looking away and leaning down to pluck a new dandelion to torture.

"That's really none of my business," Jamie said. "And I can't possibly. . . judge, I mean. . . um. . ." She stopped, embarrassed to say outright the thing that made her feel the most like apologizing to Sara.

"Well. . . that's. . . not really the same thing," Sara said, awkward, her brow furrowed. "I mean, the fact is, Casey was dating Tegan when I slept with her." Jamie nodded, rubbing her sweaty palms on her pant legs. _Yeah, and Tegan was your soul mate when I slept with her._

"But. . . it's kind of worse, I think," Jamie went on, feeling the nerves start in her stomach and flutter up through her chest. "Like, I knew, and. . . Tegan was a complete mess because of. . . the situation and because she just. . . needed you but still, I. . ." she stopped, flustered.

"Tegan's not. . . married, or something," Sara said with a short, nervous laugh. "I mean, nobody will say. . . like, nobody could blame you for, um. . . for getting together with someone who has a. . . um. . . _sister." _ They both held their breath until the sound of that word floated away on the breeze. "But like, I got drunk and slept with Tegan's girlfriend. I was pretty devastated and it was after everything with Emy and that's not an excuse but that's what happened. Tegan and Casey were like, fighting and Tegan was talking about breaking up with her but that's not an excuse either. Shit," Sara said, shaking her head. "I wish I could find a _good _excuse."

"Well, you were in a pretty. . . confusing situation," Jamie offered sympathetically.

"Yeah, that's an understatement," Sara said heavily. "Jamie, do you love Tegan?" Sara asked abruptly, without opening her eyes. Her forehead furrowed a little with the effort, the effort of asking, of waiting for the answer, and maybe of hearing it.

Jamie froze, startled by the question, completely uncertain of how to answer it. What answer was Sara even looking for? And which one would it hurt the least to hear? She sighed, deciding there was no point in saying anything other than the truth. "Yes," Jamie said reluctantly, realizing with a flash of anxiety that it was the first time she had admitted it to anyone, other than Tegan. "I've loved her. . . all along. Since the very beginning." Jamie started biting at her thumb nail. Sara exhaled, pulled a cluster of petals off the dandelion, twirled it anxiously between her hands.

"I always kind of knew that, you know," Sara said. "I don't think that _Tegan _realized it until. . . recently." Jamie felt something twist in her stomach. "So, you know, the thing is, um. . ." Sara's started, with a quiver in her voice. "I think you and Tegan should be together." Jamie sat in stunned silence for a moment, collecting herself. "I mean, that way Tegan could have a normal life, a normal relationship. . . go out on dates. . . you know. . . be happy." She nearly choked on the word _happy, _and almost seemed startled by her tears as they erupted suddenly and she pressed both hands to her eyes. Jamie drew in a shaky breath, finding herself dangerously close to joining Sara. Although she tried to swallow the feeling, the tears came anyway. Memories raced through her mind of kissing Tegan, of holding her, of touching her skin and lying in bed next to her, and the tears came faster. She had been sleeping, and dreaming a dream that she would never have believed if it were real. And then, as soon as she had started to believe it really could be real, she started to wake up. So she tried to keep her eyes closed and go back to sleep, but it was like someone was pulling her, dragging her out of it, and throwing her into icy water, and her heart couldn't take it.

"Ha," she said, feeling the constriction in her chest, the shallowness of her breath. "I wish. I mean, except for the fact that Tegan _belongs _to you in like. . ." _In a way that nobody else could ever possibly compete with_ she wanted to say around the lump in her throat and the tears now streaming down her face. She tried to take a deep breath, to settle herself as Sara turned her watery eyes to her in sympathy. She looked at Jamie's face for a moment, as Jamie slowly rubbed the sleeve of her hoody across her eyes and took a breath. "She's just. . . yours." She tried to shrug, but she had started to shiver a little. After a moment, Sara took hold of one of Jamie's hands and squeezed it. She shook her head, sighed. They were both silent for a moment, Sara's tears flowing unchecked, while Jamie struggled with hers.

"God, I'm sorry. You must wish you'd never met us," she said, joking and not, wiping the wetness from her face with one sleeve and holding onto Jamie's hand. Jamie laughed shortly.

"Ha. No. Well, kind of. Sometimes. . ." she said, a sob cutting her off. Sara looked pained.

"Hey, Jamie, don't cry. . ." she said, rubbing Jamie's shoulder while her own tears still spilled over.

"I'm not," Jamie said as Sara put her arms around her and gave her a warm hug.

"You are," Sara said.

"So are you," Jamie mumbled against Sara's shoulder, submitting to the unexpected embrace.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are," Jamie said.

"God, we're a mess," Sara laughed a little. "I think I just got snot on your hoody."

"That's fine. There's still some of Tegan's snot on it," Jamie managed to say despite the tightness in her throat.

"Well, my snot is like, literally identical to hers, genetically, so. . ."

"Does mucus contain genetic material, even?" Jamie asked rhetorically, as, to her surprise, Sara released her from the hug and reached over to wipe Jamie's cheeks with the cuff of her own hoody.

"I have no idea but here, you get some of your snot on my sleeve and then we're even."

"I think we should go and wipe snot on Tegan instead since this is all her fault," Jamie said, sniffling.

"Fucking right. Awesome idea," Sara said as she finished drying Jamie's face with her sleeve. "God, Tegan. She's always fucking shit up."

"Such a bitch," Jamie said.

"Seriously."

They sat there on the bench for a while, until their tears stopped. The woman in the yoga pants tied a little plastic baggie, dropped it in the garbage bin by the door, and went inside. When Jamie's eyes, and Sara's, were finally dry, they got up quietly and returned to Tegan.


	16. It's A Heart Attack That You Feel

**Author's Note: Hey guys! I am SO SORRY that it took so long to get this to you. Life *seriously* got in the way… not to mention the fact that this is the LAST CHAPTER of "It's a Heart Attack That You Feel," so it took forever for me to get this chapter to sound right. Before you all cry, though, it's okay because I am WELL into writing the SEQUEL to this story, and will hopefully get the first chapter to you in less time than it took to get this one up! I promise that somehow, the sequel is even more insane than the original!**

**Next check this out: /9modbt9. And this: /9re4hrj. (Put "tinyurl dot com" before the backslash of each link, for some reason it won't let me post the whole link) I'm just saying.**

**And finally, recommended listening for this chapter (the "soundtrack," if you will ;) is a song by "Jamie's" brother, lol (he's actually got a few good songs, you should check them out) which you can listen to here: /95qrykt. And the lyrics are here, they're pretty awesome: /9cqqrvz.**

**Okay, enough of that, on with this show. I love, love, love your feedback, as always. See you in the sequel!**

**Chapter 16: It's A Heart Attack That You Feel**

The last few days in Vancouver were much less eventful than the first. Sara and Tegan started speaking again, in a way that was comfortingly more familiar to Jamie, but the fact that they all knew what the situation was had somehow made them shy; the twins still seemed to avoid touching each other completely, at least in front of Jamie. The three of them sorted through the footage; they went to a couple of movies; they cooked together and ate together and even managed to laugh occasionally. Tegan and Jamie continued sleeping together in the same bed, in the same room, with the unspoken agreement that it was simpler than trying to change anything at that point. They slept, and whispered late in the night, and cuddled together in their sleep, but Sara's presence made anything more seem somehow so inappropriate to Jamie. Tegan was much less of a wreck than she'd been in Sara's absence; Sara's presence, it seemed to Jamie, was like a salve. This was a relief with a sting built into it. She knew how true her words to Sara had been, but it didn't make it hurt any less. She'd woken up from the dream and was spending these last few days trying to get used to the ache of being awake again.

Sara was also in the habit of occasionally leaving Jamie and Tegan alone to talk. And they talked, in an easy intimate way that they had recently found. On their last night in Vancouver, Sara had gone out with an old friend, ostensibly to see a movie, leaving Tegan and Jamie alone. Jamie knew she needed that time to get all of her clothes and things together and pack up in preparation for returning to the bus. They did laundry, folded clothes, and packed their bags in a comfortable silence. When Jamie slipped the last pair of socks into her suitcase, Tegan came and glanced over her shoulder.

"Wow, impressive," she said, looking over the fastidiously organized contents of Jamie's suitcase.

"I learned it from Shaun," she explained.

"No, I mean, damn, you have a lot of Tegan and Sara shirts. . . " Tegan grinned at her, and she snorted.

"Yeah well, I'm not buying any more," Jamie said haughtily, and Tegan laughed.

"No. Free t-shirts for life." Tegan went back to her own packing and, as Jamie slowly zipped up her bag, she felt the tightness returning to her chest. _Not again, not now, no! _She struggled with herself. _Keep your shit together. You can cry when she's asleep, _she told herself, lifting the bag and setting it on the floor next to the bed. Tegan was in the bathroom gathering up toothpaste, shampoo; Jamie sank down onto the bed, wondering what she could do to keep busy, to keep her mind occupied, to keep her thoughts away from the dark fog gathering around the edges of her mind. _Was it worth it? _she asked herself. _Was it worth it to get that close just to lose it all again. . ._

Tegan came back in and sat down on the bed next to her.

"Hey," she said with a gentle smile, placing a hand on Jamie's back. "You okay?" _Don't you fucking make me cry, Tegan Quin, with your fucking sweet eyes._

"Um, yeah. Why?" she asked with an unconvincing smile. Tegan looked like she would answer but hesitated, and smiled again.

"There are so many things I want to say to you," Tegan said after a pause, her eyes crinkley, smiling kindly. Jamie's heart clenched, her throat swelled again.

"Yeah. . . me too," she said in a tight voice. They looked at each other for a moment, and when Jamie felt the redness of her eyes becoming obvious and looked down, Tegan moved her hand to Jamie's knee.

"Well, one thing I really want to say is thank you," Tegan said. "I really needed. . . I would have been a fucking mess without you these past few weeks. . ."

"You were a fucking mess _with _me," Jamie said, attempting to laugh.

"True," Tegan said, her eyes on Jamie's, leaning in so that her right shoulder touched Jamie's left, and, side by side on the bed, their legs touched, too. "But I would have been an even_bigger _mess." Jamie was looking down at her thigh next to Tegan's, her socked feet swinging closer to the floor than Tegan's; she could see Tegan's eyes on her. She couldn't meet them, though. Not without losing it entirely. "The other thing I wanted to say was I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I've. . . caused you any pain. . ." Jamie shook her head, swallowed. "Because, you know, part of me feels like I was selfish. . . and, yeah, I think I was selfish." Jamie wanted Tegan to go on so that she wouldn't have to say anything herself. Her mouth was a floodgate that she didn't want to open. She just shook her head again. "But, you know," Tegan said quietly, "I'm kind of glad I was selfish because I had. . . being with you here and. . . I. . ." she paused, tucking a bit of Jamie's hair behind her ear again. "You really are a sweet, sexy motherfucker."

"Ha," Jamie said as it became harder to breathe, "thanks." She stared down at her hands in her lap. _A year ago if someone had told me you would ever say that to me_. . . She thought, blinking quickly, and forced herself to take a deep breath. "But I, um. . . I was selfish too. . . I mean, I _knew_ why you were so upset, when we got here, and I didn't, I. . . still let you. . ." Tegan gave her a sad grin.

"You couldn't have stopped me if you tried," she said cheekily.

"I _did_ try!" Jamie said with a shaky laugh. "But maybe I should have tried harder. . ."

"Hey, no. . ." Tegan said softly, joking but not. "I'm glad you didn't. . ."

"I mean, for Sara," Jamie continued, "I just, I've never felt so terrible, or so guilty. . . when she came back. . ."

"She's okay, though," Tegan comforted her, "it's okay. I mean, it's not like she can break up with me. . ." She laughed awkwardly.

"But I just," Jamie struggled to keep going before she lost her nerve, "I. . . couldn't. You, when you. . . I. . ." _Keep it together! _she chastised herself. _Come on. . ._ She took another deep breath. "I've heard you talk, so many times. . . _So_ many times! About, um. . . about, like, loving someone, so much, that you can't have, and how it, like, destroys you. . ." Her breaths were getting shallower and shakier, despite her best efforts. "But I don't think you know how. . . I don't think you understand. . . what it's like to love someone, so, like. . . painfully, that you can't just. . . that you can't even _touch_. Or hardly talk to, you know? That you have to. . . _pay_ just to _see_. And to, like, have people tell you that you're crazy. . . that you couldn't. . . you couldn't. . . possibly love someone you don't even _know_." Tegan watched her, concerned, the vertical crease in her forehead returned. She looked serious, earnest, sad. "But that's what they, like, don't understand, is that's what's hardest, that you don't _get_ to know. You don't _get_ to know that person, um, you don't, like. . . know who they really are when they're alone, what they really think about you, or, um, about anything. . . if they're someone you could have loved. . . you're cut off before that. You don't even get the chance, you know? Maybe, you know, it would never have worked out anyway. But, like, you don't even get to find out." She felt like she was starting to ramble, but now that she'd started, she didn't think she could stop. "But you. . . I. . . I never. . . I never felt like I _didn't _know you, you know? I mean, in some stupid way, like, just a little bit, I felt like, I_was_ you. When you, um. . . how you smiled, like, in front of everyone, when it felt like you were so sad. How you loved people, so desperately, even when it was, like, hopeless. How much you _wanted_ that kind of love. And like, everything you said, in your songs, it felt like I could have said it. It didn't. . . it all made me. . love _you_ so much that it hurt. It made me want to see you, whenever I could, even if that was the closest I could ever get. Even if it, like, tore me apart, every time I did. I mean, it made me do crazy, insane things that no normal person would ever do. And you know," she laughed a little as the first tears rolled down her cheeks, "I loved you most because, um, I think. . . I felt like. . . if you had been me. . . you would have done the same thing." She hastily wiped the tears off of her face as Tegan watched her, intensely, the sad grin returning for just a moment as she nodded slightly. "And I mean, it's so stupid, but the whole, 'It's better to have loved and lost' thing, I mean, um, I think they're wrong. . . because once you know how things _can_ be, like, how they_could_ be, I mean. . . well then, um. . . then after that you just have to learn how to live with them being, like. . . not that. Less than that. And I, um. . . I knew. . . I never thought. . . you would ever be with me. I never thought that. But it never made me, um, not. . . love you. Nothing did. Because I tried." The tears kept coming, and she pushed them away with one hand as Tegan took her other hand and started to stroke it gently. The sweet gesture made Jamie's chest ache more intensely and her eyes sting even more painfully as Tegan ran her thumb over the back of Jamie's hand. "And so maybe, I should have, um, stopped you, for _me_. . . so that I wouldn't. . . I wouldn't. . . um. . ." she swallowed and struggled to breathe as Tegan waited and began to gently touch Jamie's hair. ". . .so that I wouldn't know what it's like, um. . . to have. . . to have, um. . . the thing that you want more than, um, anything else, and, um, then to not have it." There was silence for several seconds and Tegan continued to stare at her intensely, a pained expression on her face as she kept stroking Jamie's hair.

"I'm so sorry," Tegan whispered, "I'm so, so sorry. . ."

"No. . ." Jamie gulped, shaking her head as she roughly wiped away more tears, "it isn't, it's not your fault. It's not. It's nobody's fault, like. . . that you. . . feel how you feel. . . and I. . . you never asked for me to feel this way. It's just. . . it sucks. The world sucks."

"Yeah," Tegan laughed sadly, "that's like, the understatement of the century, isn't it?" She moved one hand back to Jamie's knee, squeezed it softly. She took a breath. "I'm. . . I don't, um. . . I mean. . ."

"No," Jamie shook her head again, "it's okay, I mean, it's okay. . . I know. . . I mean, I know things can't. . . um. . . be the way they have been between us. . . this week. . . I mean, I know. I know. . ." Jamie took a deep breath as Tegan's watched her. "But I just want you to. . . just remember it sometimes, okay? I mean, like, remember this week and. . . remember me and. . ." She tried to swallow the sob before it formed but it came anyway.

"Ohhhh Jamie," Tegan said, her voice a soft protest. She was quiet for several moments, watching Jamie's face. ". . .I care about you, a lot, you know? I mean, more than you know. No one has ever. . . I never thought anyone. . . could like. . . could be for me what you've been. I mean, I never thought _anyone_ could know about. . . what you know. . . and like, still love me. And still even _like_ me. I don't think you know what that means to me, at all. . ." Tegan began to blink faster too as she pulled Jamie closer. "I don't know, like, where I'd be right now if it weren't for you. I don't. . . like. . . I don't know how much more I would hate myself. And I still. . . I _need _you. And that's so selfish too, but I do. . . And like, um. . . you don't have to stay, after everything that's happened I understand if you. . . can't or if, if you don't want to, but I hope you will, because I don't know how I'm going to. . . get through this without you, I don't. So of _course _I'll remember, I mean. . . God, there's no way I could forget. . . wow, no." She paused for a long moment, trying to decide. "And I know. . . I know it's not. . . I mean, I know it isn't the same. . . but I do," Tegan whispered, "I do love you." By then Jamie had stopped trying to stop crying. "Hey. . ." Tegan said wrapping both arms around Jamie as the dam burst. "Here, come here. . ." Tegan pulled Jamie to her chest as she sobbed, and they lay down together. "Go ahead and cry. It's kind of your turn," Tegan said gently, holding Jamie tight in both arms as she wept against the breast pocket of Tegan's flannel shirt. "Hey, you know. . ." Tegan said gently, her voice a murmur, vibrating through Jamie's body as she cried against her. "I'm so glad we found you in that alley. I'm so glad you got drugged in the hotel bar. . ." Tegan said with a small laugh. "I'm even glad you saw. . . Sara and me . . in the hotel room. I'm glad because now, you know, there's one person I can trust. . . one person who understands. . ." Jamie could no longer speak; every additional word Tegan spoke tore her heart open wider. Her body shook against Tegan's, a tree in a strong wind. "And I'm so glad you came with me here to Vancouver. . . I'm glad for what happened, because you made me feel. . . _alive_, again, when part of me was dying._ ._ ."Tegan said this with a catch in her own voice. "And I'm so glad you're here now. And I'll be glad tomorrow when we're on the bus together. . . if you still want to be there. And if you do, I'll be glad every time I look down into the front of the crowd and you're there for me. And I'll be glad to know that you'll be down there for the show after that."

Tegan continued like that for a while, talking quietly about the things she was glad for. Jamie would always remember all the things that Tegan listed, but she couldn't add any of her own right then; all she could do was cry. She cried in Tegan's arms until she fell again into a deep and dreamless sleep.

. . . . .

Jamie clicked the fresh battery into place and switched the camera on, twisting the LCD around to get Ted fully into the frame. He sat at the dining table with a bowl of cereal in front of him. He gave her a broad grin.

"Happy to be back on the bus, Jamie?" he asked her as they rolled east towards Calgary.

"Absolutely. I was starting to get pretty tired of sleeping in beds and using flush toilets," Jamie said.

"Oh God, I know what you mean," Ted agreed, crunching his cereal. Johnny slid behind Jamie and sat down across from Ted. "Those things get pretty old, pretty fast."

"Right?" Jamie agreed. "I mean, seriously, what fun is a bed that doesn't vibrate?"

"You make a very good point," Ted said.

"How was Vancouver?" Johnny asked, prying the plastic cover off of a container of strawberries.

"Yeah, it was good," Jamie said lightly. "It rained a lot."

"Want a strawberry?" Jamie took one of Johnny's strawberries and bit into it.

"Mmmm," she said, pulling off the leaf at the top, and making eye contact with Ted, who raised his eyebrows inquisitively. Jamie mouthed the word _later _to him and he gave her a conspiratorial grin.

"Hey Jamie," said a voice from the back of the bus. "Come and watch the movie with us." The voice was Sara's. "It's the one I told you about. Mary Stuart Masterson plays the drums. . ." Sara's voice trailed off and Jamie walked to the back with her camera running, her eyes on the LCD. She peered around the corner and saw Sara sitting there with Tegan, on the sofa, side by side, with their feet up. They both had their eyes on the movie screen. Jamie sat down on the end of the sofa nearest Tegan and took a slow shot of their socked feet, side by side on the table, and their legs side by side, thighs touching. She zoomed slowly on Sara, as she lifted a hand and took hold of Tegan's thumb, and squeezed it in her fist, absently, her eyes on the screen. Jamie had her eyes on her own screen as she slowly panned from their hands, which were then clasped together, up to Tegan's face. At first, Tegan's eyes were on her hand and Sara's, with a half smile, soft eyes. But something, maybe, made her feel Jamie's eyes on her eyes, through the camera's screen, still and silent on her face. She looked up then, at the camera, and met Jamie's eyes there, through the lens. Tegan's eyes laughed again, crinkley. She gave Jamie a wink, and a broad smile. Jamie clicked the LCD screen closed, looked up at Tegan's eyes, and smiled back.

THE END OF PART 1


	17. It Was Midnight

**OH MY GOD YOU GUYS! I am finally ready to unveil the first chapter of the sequel to "It's a Heart Attack That You Feel!" Writing that story turned out to be way more interesting, complex, and gratifying than I ever imagined it would be when I was just goofing off and joking about how I should write my own fanfic. At some point, in my mind, it stopped being a joke and started feeling real! And the comments and love and feedback from all of you are what completely made it worth it and kept me super excited about working on it. Every time I would post a new chapter, I would just sit there and eagerly wait for the first reviews to come in! Most of all, I loved talking to you guys about what made you laugh, made you cry, and made you do… well… other things. ;) SO, I am so pleased to present to you the sequel, which brings to you the same characters you know and love, but believe it or not, is even more completely insane, emotional, and complicated than its predecessor. Some of it is pretty different, and I think you'll see what I mean, but I now bring to you, and hope you will love:**

**Part II: It Only Fuels the Flames**

**Chapter 1: It Was Midnight**

"So what flavour did you get?" Ted asked, joining Jamie at the table by the window of a little

yogurt shop they'd managed to find in Brighton, just a few hours before the first show of their UK tour.

"Pineapple," she said, and for a moment she actually felt shy, and then felt stupid about that. _He_

_doesn't know!_ she reminded herself. _I need to say something. I need to say something before I burst open like a pinata. _"How about you?" she asked instead.

"Cherry, with whipped cream and sprinkles," he said with obvious glee. Jamie grinned at his

childlike enthusiasm.

"That sounds sickly sweet," she said and he nodded happily.

"It is. So, you never told me what all happened in Vancouver," he said, tasting his whipped cream as his question sent a jolt through Jamie's insides. "Spill."

"Uh, well. . ." she started, excited for the opportunity but suddenly anxious. "I uh. . . went to a couple of restaurants. Did some editing. Walked in the rain. Slept with Tegan. Do you want to go to a movie tomorrow night, maybe?" Jamie said, it all spilling out at once and she didn't even really like going to movies that much. There was an overripe pause where Ted looked up quickly from his yogurt and sought out eye contact but Jamie was concentrating very hard on her yogurt. She could almost hear the shock boiling up inside of him.

"She. . . you. . . _what?_" Ted sputtered, eyes wide, his yogurt spoon frozen mid-journey, dripping

now-neglected cherry yogurt onto the cracked formica. Jamie laughed at his incredulity, but blushed still. He was the only person she could tell, and since returning, she'd _wanted _to tell someone, anyone, but there was no one. The end of the Canadian tour had been very quiet, with each of the girls internally processing all that had happened while at the same time avoiding mentioning it whenever possible. The tour had ended abruptly, it felt like, and after that, Jamie had spent a few weeks at home, sorting out some of the fragments of her nearly-forgotten life; catching up with friends, mending a couple of relationships with touring buddies who would have wanted to club her like a baby seal if they'd known. . . they kind of seemed like they wanted to club her like a baby seal as it was. And not a day went by that she didn't talk to someone and feel an intense urge to just spill everything she'd experienced over those few months of touring and, in particular, those two weeks in Vancouver. But she couldn't, and she knew it. Ted was the only one she could conceivably talk to about it, and this was the first time, despite her many efforts, that she'd gotten him alone.

"You're dripping yogurt like, all over. . ." Jamie mumbled, deflecting. Ted shook his head, grinning widely, and dropped his spoon back into his cup.

"Oh no. Don't change the subject. You and Tegan, like. . ." he stopped, wanting to know and not wanting to ask, pulled and pushed by his own curiosity. "Wow." He pressed both hands against the sides of his head as if to stop the explosion.

"Haha," Jamie chuckled briefly, spooning some pineapple yogurt into her mouth and, as often

happened, experiencing a sudden wave of recollection, of how that yogurt had tasted on Tegan's lips. Her insides twisted a little.

"So like, I mean. . ." Ted went on, stunned to the point of losing the power of coherent thought. "Like, you. . . what. . . was it just like a one-time thing or. . . I'm sorry. . . it's. . ." he laughed, shaking his head, his eyebrows frozen in their elevated position. "I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. . ."

"No, it's okay, I mean. . . I've wanted to like. . . talk to someone," Jamie started, "for all these weeks because my head has been like. . ."

"Fucked," Ted said helpfully, shaking his head with an awed expression.

"Kind of, yeah," Jamie said. She played around with the yogurt in her cup. "And, um, no, not once

but like. . . um. . ." She didn't know how to finish.

"More than once?" Ted confirmed, more surprised still. He snapped out of it enough to grab a napkin and mop up the melted yogurt from the table.

"Um, yeah. . . more than once," Jamie said, somewhat absently as she took another bite of yogurt, recalling Tegan's face above hers as she woke up that morning in Vancouver. The memory gave her a slight shiver. Ted's voice pulled her back to the present.

"So are you. . . I mean, have you been. . . has it been continuing since-"

"No," Jamie said quickly, with a dismissive shake of the head, surprised at the sudden tightening in her throat. "Uh, no, I mean. . . I think it was the time and the place, like. . . I think Tegan really needed someone. . ." Ted watched her face as she attempted an explanation, and his surprise softened somewhat sympathetically.

"But. . . Jamie," Ted started hesitantly, licking his finger and dabbing at the sprinkles on the table. "You're like. . . you're. . . kind of. . . in love. . . with Tegan. Right?" Jamie's heart skipped slightly. He looked at her earnestly. _How does he know? What have I ever done to give that away? Does everyone know? Why am I so fucking obvious!?_

"Uh," she stalled, wondering if the heat from her face would melt all the yogurt in the coolers. "Yeah, I, uh, I guess. . . um. . . how did you, um. . ." Ted smiled again.

"Because I see _you. . . _and then I see you with _her_," he said simply, turning his palms up with a shrug and a grin. "It's just. . . obvious." Jamie met his warm look for a moment before looking down, and felt shy over being so transparent.

"Yeah," she said when she couldn't come up with anything else.

"Isn't that hard?" he asked her sympathetically as she reached over and took a small scoop of his cherry yogurt. He in turn took some of her pineapple and she inadvertently wondered what it would taste like on his lips.

"Haha. . . yeah, um. . . can we just maybe talk about the sexy stuff instead?" she said, laughing at the sore spot this conversation was rubbing up against, but blinking fast against the prick in her eyes that Ted's question had sparked. Ted gave her an understanding look.

"Aww, sure," he said.

"I mean, yeah. But she and Sara are just like. . ." Jamie stopped, recalling the way Sara had clasped her fingers together when she tried to explain her love for Tegan. "Like this," she finished, using Sara's gesture.

"Yeah, I know. . ." Ted said thoughtfully and paused for a moment. "So. . . was it good?" He gave her a mischievous look and she smirked at him and shook her head, blushing again._Will Tegan ever stop making me blush?_

"Ha," she laughed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. "Uh, _yeah." _Ted shook his head again, his smile consuming his face. He made a sound that Jamie could only have described as a giggle.

"And so were you. . . I mean. . . was she. . . who was _on top?_" he asked, mischievous excitement evident on his face. Jamie snorted, rolled her eyes a little.

"Jesus," she said. "Contrary to popular belief, you really _are_ a guy, huh?"

"Come on, Jamie! You can't just like. . . tell me you slept with Tegan and then-" Jamie winced and he lowered his voice. "And then not tell me any details!"

"I thought Tegan was like your sister," Jamie teased, and Ted shrugged, laughing.

"Yeah, maybe she's _like _my sister but she's not _actually _my sister. . ." he paused thoughtfully. "Which, I guess, in _this_ context though. . . does it matter?"

"Ha ha oh God," Jamie laughed, "too far, too far!"

"You're avoiding the question again!"

"Ha well. . . most of the time, uh. . . you know, it isn't all about _tops _and _bottoms _you know, especially with women-"

"Come on!"

"Okay, me," Jamie muttered into her yogurt cup. "Mostly." Ted laughed, clapped his hands together a few times.

"Haha, all right! Well! I would not have thought that!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, well. . ." Ted was still laughing as Jamie struggled with her embarrassment.

"But like. . ." he started, lowering his voice, "when you saw them. . . in the hotel. . . who-"

"Sara," Jamie said quickly.

"Top?"

"Haha, yes!" Jamie said to Ted's raised eyebrows.

"Ha! I knew it!" he cried victoriously, and Jamie smirked at him.

"Oh yeah?" she taunted, "and why is that?"

It was Ted's turn to blush slightly. "Uh, well, I mean, you know. . . Sara is just such a _control_ freak, like. . . right? And Tegan just. . ."

Jamie let him struggle, enjoying the analysis of someone who had known them much better than she had.

"Tegan just. . . wants to be loved, you know? So it all kind of. . . makes sense. . ." he laughed at his own embarrassment.

"Yeah, fans have been speculating about that for years. . ." she mused, and Ted took a moment with his yogurt. "I'd kind of like to tell them they were right, buuuut. . ."

"Wow. And like. . . your fan friends, like your friends from before who are fans, like. . . I mean, how would they react?" he asked, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table. Jamie shook her head.

"Oh God. Some of them would. . . like. . . draw and quarter me in the town square," she said wryly. "I think some of them have already started a petition. . ." They took a moment to ponder that.

"But like. . . how did that even _happen? _Like how. . . who. . . which one of you like. . ." The image that came first to Jamie's mind this time was of Tegan in bed, sobbing, with a pillow clutched to her face. She was immediately filled again with the same intense affection she had felt then, lying beside Tegan, just wanting to hold her.

"Uh, well. . . she'd been really upset. . . about Sara, the night before, so I stayed with her. . . that night," Jamie started, and Ted immediately started grinning again. "No, it was. . . I didn't. . . she was _crying_, and I just held her! What kind of opportunist do you think I am?!" Jamie asked, in mock offense. He snorted.

"Okay, go on then."

"And then in the morning when I woke up, um. . . she was like. . . just. . . lying next to me and like looking. . . at me. . ." she attempted to explain, awkwardly. She ate more yogurt to buy more time.

"And _then?" _Ted pressed in a stage-whisper that reminded her of the small Asian girl with the scandalized expression.

"And then, she just got on top of me and kissed me," Jamie finished, the last two words dropping off to a barely audible mumble.

"_She. . . got on top of. . and. . ._? Tegan-"

"Shhh, keep it down," Jamie hissed anxiously, briefly eyeing the two women a couple of tables away. _Almost definitely not gay, _she thought with relief. "And, yeah. . . I didn't see that coming, either."

"Wow," he said, looking impressed.

"Yeah," Jamie agreed, her mind returning to the first moment she had felt Tegan's lips on hers. She shivered again, and crossed her legs.

"And after she kissed you, did you. . . I mean. . . what did you. . ."

"Ha. . ." Jamie laughed, blushing more deeply yet again. "_I_ didn't do much of anything. . . I was still trying to figure out what parallel universe I was in and trying to remember how to breathe. . ."

"And so _Tegan_-"

"Yeah."

"Wow." He blinked at her, at a loss, until he appeared to remember the even more insane part of the whole equation. "And like, you and Tegan. . . you and _Sara_. . . you guys are okay?" he wondered in disbelief and Jamie nodded, scraping the bottom of the cup.

"We're okay. There were lots of like. . . intense conversations and gut-spilling and like. . . crying," she explained.

"I can imagine."

"Ha! I don't even know if you can. Like, it was just. . ." She trailed off and shook her head, also at a loss. "But eventually, now, I think. . . we're good. We-" Jamie's phone buzzed on the table, and they both glanced at the screen. A text from Tegan. _Yogurt 4 me pls?_

"Speak of the garden gnome," Ted mused as Jamie picked up her phone and quickly wrote back, _Sure. What flavor?_

"I thought Sara might murder me, though," Jamie said after a moment, remembering the wave of anxiety she had felt upon Sara's arrival in Vancouver. "She showed up and I don't think Tegan was expecting her yet, and she just walked right into Tegan's room and-"

"OH MY GOD, were you-"

"NO! But my clothes were, like. . . everywhere. . . and she, uh, figured it out pretty quickly. I was really sure I was about to end up with two black eyes." Ted laughed. "In the end, she was sweet though. We got snot on each other. We're fine." Ted laughed at that as Tegan's texted reply arrived. _PINEAPPLE OF COURSE! _was all it said, and Jamie couldn't help but snort, a little, as she got up and ordered Tegan's pineapple yogurt.

"And so. . ." Ted went on as they let the door jingle closed behind them. "They know, they both know that _you _know?"

"Yeah," Jamie said as they navigated the three blocks back to where their buses were parked.

"And how did _that_ happen? I mean, I'm guessing you didn't just, like. . ."

"God no, fuck, I wasn't going to say anything!" Jamie replied. "But then after the first time me and Tegan. . . um. . . well actually, I guess it was like, the second time. . ." she felt her face heating up again as Ted's grin returned. "Well, she really lost it. I guess she thought. . . I guess she felt like. . . after that. . . that I deserved to know." This time the image that came to her mind was Tegan curled up in the bathtub, naked, weeping, and shivering in the freezing water, and the same wave of overwhelming compassion she had felt then washed over her again.

"Wow," Ted gave a low whistle. "That's intense."

"No joke," Jamie replied, thinking of the animal-like terror she had seen in Tegan's wide, red-rimmed eyes. "But she like, she couldn't even say it, and I had to like, help. . ."

"No way," Ted sharply turned to look at her, almost slipping off of the curb of the sidewalk before quickly regaining his balance. "Oh my god. What did you say?"

"I said that you can't help who you fall in love with."

"Wow," Ted repeated, looking at her, more carefully this time, with a mixture of wonder and sympathy.

"Yeah," Jamie said, "and then I, uh, overheard Tegan telling Sara that I knew, a few days after Sara got there, when they were talking about, uh, all of. . . everything." Ted raised his eyebrows but said nothing. "They both were like, sick when they found out that I knew. No, actually, Tegan actually did throw up when I told her I knew. I almost had to break into the bathroom to make sure she was okay."

"Damn."

"Yeah. She was a fucking mess. But I think. . . I mean, I hope. . . they are going to be okay with it. Maybe you should tell them that you know?" Ted thought about that.

"Maybe give them time to get over this shock first?" They mused over that a little as they walked. They were half a block away from the bus when they saw Sara come flying off the Short Bus, as the boys had called it that morning, and dart off in the other direction.

"Uh oh," Jamie said under her breath.

"Was she crying?" Ted asked, glancing over at Jamie.

"I think so. I'll bring this to Tegan and. . . see you in a bit, okay?"

"Yeah."

. . . .

"This is. . ." Tegan started slowly.

"I know," Sara agreed. "It's like, it's so, like. . ."

"It's almost obscene," Tegan said.

"Yeah."

"Um. . ." Tegan started, scratching her head.

"Yeah, Chris said they screwed up and. . . they'd ordered a different model for us with like. . . two normal beds in the back and we got, uh. . ."

"This," Tegan finished for her.

"Yeah."

They both stood in the back of their newly rented bus, their first-ever private bus, staring at the king-sized bed, awkwardly, uncertainly. Sara glanced over at Tegan, briefly, and then back to the opulence of the huge bed. Tegan shifted from one foot to the other, biting the corner of her lower lip. Had she ever imagined, at any time in her life, that she would feel so anxious to be standing next to a bed with her twin sister? The overt fact of its being a bed seemed to hold them where they stood, like quicksand. They may or may not have been sinking.

"Tegan, can we talk about. . . something. . . I've been meaning to. . . " Sara said abruptly after a moment, eyes still on the dark grey duvet and not on Tegan's.

"Uh, we're talking now. . ." Tegan said with a nervous laugh, rubbing her palms against the legs of her jeans. Conversations that started that way were never good.

"Can we sit down?" Sara asked, and Tegan gave her a quick, dubious look.

"Here?" she asked, incredulously, as she took half a step back. Why was she so hesitant? There were times, many times, where the only thing she wanted in life was to be in a room with a door that locked, alone, with Sara, in a bed. She wanted that so much that it overcame her fear, her sense of morality, the shame, the guilt, the humiliation, and the pain that came with it.

"Tegan, we've. . . we've been alone in rooms with beds before and. . . not. . ."

"Okay," Tegan said quickly, and sat awkwardly on the foot of the bed. Sara sat in the middle of the bed and crossed her legs.

"Could you maybe look at me?" Sara asked tentatively, and after a moment's hesitation, Tegan nodded, seeming to shake herself, and turned to face Sara on the bed, knee to knee. Tegan quickly recalled sitting just like that with Jamie in Vancouver several weeks before, and felt a little twist in her stomach.

"Okay," Tegan said, with some trepidation. "What did you want to talk about?" Sara looked in her eyes with a degree of solemnity that made Tegan even more anxious. Sara took a breath.

"I want to talk about Jamie," Sara said, earnestly, leaning forward a little. Their knees touched.

"Oh, man. . ." Tegan moaned, grimacing a little. "Why?" Sara looked back at her.

"There are things I just. . . need to ask you." Tegan looked back at her, their eyes mirroring each other's anxiety. Tegan sighed, nodded. If Sara needed to ask, she would have to answer, but she didn't know why Sara needed to ask. That seemed kind of masochistic.

"Why do you want to bring this all back up now?" Tegan asked uneasily, unable to think of anything she would rather talk about less.

"Well. . . we're all back in the same place again," Sara started, "and I've just. . . been thinking about it. . ." Tegan winced, wondering exactly what Sara had been thinking about.

"Okay," she said with some reluctance. Sara raised an eyebrow.

"What, you don't want to talk about it?" she asked.

"Well, I just don't see the point," Tegan replied, defensiveness rising up inside her. "Like, are you going to feel good about anything I say?" Sara shrugged, giving the question a chance to sink in. She looked up at the skylight above the bed, bit her lip.

"I don't think that feeling good is like. . . the point. At all," she said uncertainly.

"Then what is the point?" Tegan's voice got slightly more patient in the face of Sara's gravity.

"I don't. . . I don't know, I guess I don't really know if there is a. . . point. . . exactly. . . I just need to know." Sara picked at some loose threads around the hole in the knee of her jeans. Tegan watched her hands plucking at the threads, watched the tension in her face.

"Okay. Ask what you want," Tegan said at last, a little weightily.

"I want to know. . ." Sara started, not looking up from the frayed hole at her knee. "I want to know. . . how. . . it was." Tegan's eyes were on her, and her body language suggested rather that she did not want to know. But, she was asking it, and Tegan's stomach dropped.

"How. . . what was?" she asked, densely, buying time. Sara looked up at her, forced patience.

"You know," she said. Tegan looked down, wishing there were a hole in her jeans, too. Instead, she picked at her thumb nail, and sighed again.

"Sara, do you really want to talk about that?" she asked apprehensively.

"Yeah, I really do." Tegan took a moment. Her desire for privacy, her desire to protect Sara, to protect Jamie, all collided with the lingering sense of guilt, that she had betrayed Sara. Her sister. She took a long breath.

"Okay. What do you want to know?" Tegan asked again, as though she'd forgotten. Sara looked up, a little exasperated but still too embarrassed to react to it.

"I asked you already. I want to know how. . . it. . . was."

"Uh. . ." Tegan began, nerves making her a little shaky. "Can you be a little more specific? I mean, a question like that. . ."

"Tegan, you're being childish," Sara said.

"Do you think this is easy?" Tegan asked her, tensely, and Sara sighed.

"Okay. Was it good? And, since you want specifics, I'm talking about sex. I want to know if the sex was good." Tegan started peeling a hangnail by her left thumb. She shrugged, shook her head, the false frustration of the embarrassed.

"Yeah," she said, at last. A quick look up at Sara's eyes was all she could manage; she looked back to her hands. Sara looked down too. The hole in her jeans was getting bigger.

"How?" she asked, a slight tremor in her voice. "Good how?"

"I don't know how to answer that. . ." Tegan stalled.

"Did you come?" Sara asked, bluntly. Tegan met her eyes. There was more than curiosity there.

"Yes," Tegan said, the heat radiating up through the neck of her shirt, rushing up through her face.

"How many times?" Sara asked, quickly, more quickly than Tegan could formulate a response. She shrugged again.

"I don't know. . . lots of times," she mumbled. Sara nodded.

"What about Jamie?" Sara asked.

"What about her?" Tegan returned, obstinate. Sara frowned.

"Did she come?"

"I think so," Tegan replied.

"You _think_ so?" Sara asked, disbelieving, her face reddening to match Tegan's. Tegan took a moment, and in a flash, in her mind, Jamie clutched the front of her t-shirt and pressed her face against Tegan's neck.

"Okay, yes." Sara met Tegan's gaze with some intensity, searching.

"How?" Sara pressed on. Tegan raised her eyebrows.

"What?"

"Don't be obtuse, Tegan. Did you go down on her?" she asked. Tegan cleared her throat nervously.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" Tegan repeated. "I. . . there wasn't. . . I don't know, there wasn't. . . I guess there wasn't time."

"Jesus, Tegan, how long does it take?" Sara asked with an ironic laugh. Tegan scowled.

"You know what I mean," Tegan said. Sara conceded that point with a subtle shrug.

"Did she go down on you?" she asked, relentless.

"Jesus, Sara," Tegan sighed, this time remembering Jamie's lips against her inner thighs, and her own panic which stopped that short.

"Just tell me," Sara said tensely. Tegan looked at her a little sadly; she knew Sara like she knew herself, and she knew that this discussion was hurting Sara whether she wanted the answers or not.

"No, she didn't," Tegan said. She thought of saying more, but bit her tongue. Sara nodded, chewed a little on her lower lip again.

"Okay," Sara said at length. "So you had some orgasms. Is that it?" Tegan watched Sara's hands, shaking a little, gradually pull a long thread from her jeans. Tegan felt a quiver of dread in her stomach.

"Is that it?" she repeated, truly uncertain as to how to answer that in a way that would not result in pain for any of the people involved.

"Yes, Tegan!" Sara said hotly. "Was that all it was? Orgasms? Fucking? Or was there. . . something. . . more." The squirming in Tegan's stomach intensified. There was no good answer to that. Should she tell Sara that all it had been was meaningless fucking, when Sara knew that Jamie loved her? Did it matter if Sara thought she had heartlessly used Jamie? Tegan suddenly realized that it did. On the other hand, the fact was that it _hadn't_ been just meaningless fucking, but that seemed like a worse answer still.

"Sara, what do you want me to say?" Tegan protested.

"I want to know if it was just fucking or if it was something more." Her eyes, intensely on Tegan's, flashed. Tegan forced herself to answer.

"No, it wasn't just. . . fucking," she said at last. There was a slight twitch in Sara's lips at that. She looked down at her hands, where she was twisting the thread tighter and tighter around her finger until it became purple. She flushed deeper. Tegan waited for the interrogation to continue, but the pause drew out longer than she could stand. "Sara, what do you really want to know?" Tegan asked, more gently. "What are you really asking?" Sara continued her efforts to cut off the circulation in her left index finger until Tegan reached out a hand, gently took hold of Sara's, and started unwinding the thread. Sara sighed.

"I guess. . . I wonder, I mean. . . I want to know. . . I want to know if it was. . . um. . ."

"Better?" Tegan offered softly, and Sara nodded without looking up, her face a mask of shame, humiliation. _This is so fucked_, Tegan thought. _I am afraid of hurting my sister by telling her that the sex I had with someone else was not just meaningless fucking._ "Sara, it's not. . . um. . . it's not a fair comparison." Sara rubbed the life back into her finger.

"Not fair. . . to whom?" she asked, her voice low, not really wanting to know.

"To either of you," Tegan replied. Sara was picking at her jeans again, not looking up. "You're going to lose the leg of your jeans. . ."

"I guess I shouldn't have asked because. . . um. . . now I. . . I don't know." Sara pressed her fingers against her temples, closed her eyes.

"See? This is why I didn't want to talk to you about it," Tegan said, sadly. Sara gave Tegan an angry look.

"Weren't you. . . didn't you, like, think for a second that you might, like, break her fucking heart?" Tegan sat back, surprised. Her mouth opened, and then closed again.

"Uh. . . yeah, of course I thought about that," Tegan replied.

"So why did you do it?" Sara asked, intensely, insistently. "Why? Why Tegan? Fuck!" she cried out at last, and burst into tears.

"Sara, hey-" Tegan started, alarmed, reaching a hand out to Sara, who got quickly off the bed, hurried up the length of the bus, out the door, and was gone.


	18. Your Hand Was In Mine

**Part II: It Only Fuels the Flames**

**Chapter 2: Your Hand Was in Mine**

Fuck, is it always going to be like this? Things finally start to get better, to calm down, and just for a second I think that maybe Jamie is right and there could be a way that things could just be okay. Why did she want to ask me that? I knew she wouldn't really want to hear it. There was no answer I could give that wouldn't have upset her. Could I have told her that it was just meaningless sex? That I just wanted to fuck someone and Jamie was there and that was it? That wouldn't have made her feel any better. Then what would I be? I'd be some opportunistic asshole who did what she wanted without giving a fuck about anyone else. She'd be ashamed of me. I'd be ashamed of myself. But part of me wonders if I did that anyway. Like I knew. . . I guess I'd already known that Jamie loved me and I didn't really think about how it would affect her if something happened between us. Like I knew I was a fucking mess and everything inside of me just hurt so badly and I needed to be close to someone and she was sweet and she held me and something clicked in my mind and that was it, and suddenly she was not only this sweet person who held me but this sexy person who loved me and I wanted to touch her and so I just did, and didn't think, and Sara's right to ask me if I ever thought about the fact that I might break her heart because I really kind of didn't. I do these things. I do things impulsively and then take the consequences.

But this is different. It started out as me needing to feel something other than how I was feeling, and it turned into something else. I think it turned into something else as soon as she put her arms around me and pulled me closer. And I don't know what to do with how I feel about her, because that wasn't even supposed to happen.

And now what? Now Sara has run off again, hurt because I can't lie about Jamie. I can't lie about Jamie to Sara because she knows me and she can fucking look at me and know everything, see everything. Hurting her makes me want to die and I keep doing it! I keep fucking doing it!

I mean God, she's my sister. My sister, and when we're near each other things happen to my guts and my heart and my body that don't make sense to me, things that shouldn't happen. But I can't stop those things. Being with Jamie in Vancouver and her knowing and understanding and not screaming and running away from me made me feel sane. I wanted to feel sane but also . . how objective can Jamie be about me? Just because she accepts it and isn't horrified doesn't mean that anyone else will respond that way. She'd probably still accept me if I told her I had human remains buried under my apartment.

And now I've made Sara cry and she's wandering around outside like that and I wish she was just here. She should just stay here and cry with me, it's better. She doesn't cry very often and when she does, she won't let me hold her. I would do that, I would do just that, and nothing else, but she pushes me away and runs off. She only comes to me when she can't resist it anymore and then she'll touch me but she's afraid still. Afraid and angry. And I don't know what to do.

All of these things ran through Tegan's mind as she lay on the huge bed at the back of the bus, staring up through the cloudy skylight, littered with crispy leaves. She remembered those fearful, angry encounters with Sara but she remembered one more, in the bus with Sara, after Johnny's party. It was different then; Sara had allowed more than she usually allowed, and it was that sweetness that Tegan remembered when she was alone. _Tegan, _she had said, with an ache in her voice, as Tegan touched her hot, pink face and kissed her trembling lips, and she could feel Sara's whole body trembling against her too.

The sound of the door opening dragged Tegan out of her reverie. Jamie came in quietly, the cup of yogurt in her hand. Tegan sat up and wiped the little bit of wetness from her face.

"Hey," she called to Jamie, who walked to the back of the bus. Tegan met her eyes and smiled, smoothed her hair down. "Come and sit down for a second?" Jamie sat on the end of the bed and handed the yogurt cup to Tegan.

"Everything okay? I saw Sara run off," Jamie began nervously as Tegan took a bite of yogurt. Tegan, too, recalled their yogurt-flavored kiss in Vancouver with a little shiver.

"Yeah, she's a bit upset," Tegan said heavily, licking her spoon.

"Uh oh, what about? I mean. . ."

"She asked me about you," Tegan explained. "I mean, about Vancouver."

"Oh. . . oh no. . ." Jamie said uncertainly.

"Yeah, well. . ." Tegan went on, "she shouldn't ask questions if she doesn't want to hear the answers." Jamie smiled at her nervously and she smiled back, a little sadly. "Want some yogurt?" Tegan asked with a wry grin.

"Only if I can use your spoon," Jamie replied. Tegan pretended to think about it.

"Yeah I guess," she said, handing the spoon to Jamie, who took it and scooped up some of the yogurt while Tegan looked at her lips and then away.

"Thanks," she said, and after a thoughtful moment, she commented shyly. "Pineapple yogurt. . . like. . . it's. . ."

"It'll never be the same," Tegan finished for her with a cheeky grin. Jamie laughed, nodded.

"Exactly." They shared more yogurt in easy silence.

"You went for yogurt with Ted?" Tegan asked and Jamie nodded, taking the spoon again.

"Yep."

"Have you seen Johnny? Shaun said he wasn't feeling well," Tegan asked.

"Yeah, Ted said he had stomach issues," Jamie replied.

"Ugh. Two hours until sound check," Tegan said, looking at the clock on the DVD player across from the bed. "Shit, this thing is plush."

"Right?" Jamie agreed. "It's like. . . ridiculous."

"I almost feel guilty," Tegan said, looking around and bouncing a little on the bed. "And this bed, it. . . like. . ." she stopped herself, awkwardly, and focused on her yogurt.

"Aww, well, you guys deserve your privacy," Jamie said warmly, and Tegan blushed. "I mean, you're the stars. You're the bosses. You don't need to share a bus with eleven other people."

"Boys," Tegan added.

"Smelly boys," Jamie said helpfully.

"Zombie sneakers?"

"Totally."

"But seriously like. . . this bed is like. . . I mean, anyone who sees it will think. . ." Tegan started, unable to say it.

"People will probably just think it's like. . . way more comfortable to share a _huge _bed with your sister than to cram yourself into a bunk," Jamie suggested. Tegan nodded thoughtfully. They didn't speak for a moment. "But I need a shower before the show so I'd better-"

"Shower here," Tegan said with a shrug. "The shower's bigger and not full of boy germs."

"Really? All my stuff is in the other bus."

"You're going to need to move your stuff over here anyway once Jeremy starts." Jamie looked at Tegan and blinked.

"Jeremy?"

"Our new roadie. An old friend of ours. He's going to need a bunk. So this is going to be the girls' bus. There are four bunks up front." Jamie smiled at Tegan, who smiled back.

"Wow, great. No more smelly boys."

"Right? Go grab your stuff."

I must have drifted off for a second after Jamie left. I wake up to the shifting of the bed and when I open my eyes, Sara is lying down next to me. Her eyes are just a little red, but not too much. My stomach does a quick jump. I can feel the warmth from her nearness, and it makes me shiver a little. Her face is sad, but not angry

"I'm sorry," I say, looking at her face, her eyes which are just like mine except not as puffy, not droopy like my left eye. I wonder for a moment what could possibly be more narcissistic than the feeling I get in my guts when I look at my own twin. _My own twin_.

"I'm sorry too," Sara says softly and I try not to look at her lips, which are so full and soft and right there in front of me. And then she moves closer and puts an arm around me so suddenly that my heart jumps, and we're so close now and I put my arms around her too and we lie like that for a minute without saying anything. My heart is racing a little because it's not often that this happens, that we just lie together like that. Her face presses against my neck and I smell her hair. It's like green apples. I feel warm all over and squeeze her more tightly. Instantly I hate everything in the world that will happen to make this moment stop. I hate our sound check that's coming up in an hour and a half; I hate our band; I hate our jobs; I hate the fact that we have responsibilities and bills and friends and family and managers and people who want things from us. Can't we just fire all of them, announce that we're quitting, break up with all of the people we love and just stay in this bed? But fuck, if we did that, we'd have to give the bus back. . .

I take a deep breath, half-expecting her to pull away at any moment. _Don't go, don't go, don't go. . . _I try to use my twin telepathy to tell her that when I feel her lips below my ear, on my neck, and I instantly feel a jolt go through my body. Her hands slide up my back and she pulls me tighter to her and when she moves her face back from mine and looks at me, there is that little line between her eyebrows which says _we can't _and _we shouldn't _and _this is wrong and there's something wrong with you and there's something wrong with me _and_I need you need you need you need you _and I feel all of that too so I try to smooth out the little line between her eyebrows using my thumb and maybe I smile just a little but my brain is saying _kiss me kiss me kiss me _like that old Cure record and then she does. She doesn't do it tentatively; she does it like she can't help it, like she wants to stop but can't, and we're the same and it hurts my guts but God there's no way I can stop it. Her lips are so soft and a little wet and when she takes my lower lip with both of hers I feel something happening to my body that makes me hate myself again. But I kiss her back and need more and her hands have moved up to my face, my hair, and they're trembling a little and I just think _are we going to be scared like this forever? _I literally do not know how to hold her without shaking. Tegan, you're a cheesy motherfucker but it's fucking true like every other bit of that song that I wrote for her and lied to Jamie about. Maybe I can tell her. Maybe I will.

When she slips one hand around the back of my neck and her tongue touches mine, I instantly think of Jamie and all those feelings crash together in my guts. Kissing Jamie didn't make me feel insane and broken. . . it made me wish that I could just keep doing it and all of this would go away. It was different, almost everything about it was different. A kiss can tell you a lot. Sara's kiss says to me like. . . _I shouldn't kiss you, I'm afraid to kiss you. . . I need to kiss you, I need to consume you and eat your whole body and leave your bones for the vultures. I need to absorb you, possess you, and if we do this right we will merge back into one person. You are me; I am you; you are mine; I am yours. I'm insane and so are you. _It cuts through my guts like a dull blade because it's all the same, the same as I feel, and I don't know why. Jamie is different, though. She kissed me and I knew in a moment that she loved me. Just like that. I didn't really know it until that moment and then I couldn't imagine how I had missed it. When she kissed me it said _I love you _and _I want you _and_you are not a disgusting, crazy, broken monster. _It said _you're beautiful. Let me show you! _And she did show me and it put part of my heart back together and I'm thankful for that, so thankful. I liked her before, but then she held me all night while I cried like a mental patient and that tenderness made something turn over in my mind and when I woke up, I wanted to feel her body and watch her face as I made her come and I wanted to feel like a normal human being.

How can all this go through my mind with Sara's mouth on mine? She kisses me slowly, for a long time, and now I think if she doesn't touch me I'll die and her hands are under my shirt, on my back and she's warm and soft and smells so good and feels so good and _why are we like this? _Her body is the most familiar thing to me, the most familiar thing that there could possibly be. She's me. And yet what happens in me when she touches me is something I'm not smart enough to describe. Ask Sara to do it.

I don't know what noise in my head stopped me from hearing when someone came in but I didn't, and by the time I hear her footsteps she has already seen everything and that flood of shame and panic comes over me and Sara too because she pulls away, jerks away really, out of my arms and away from me and sits up and looks a little bit sick. But it's Jamie, I notice with a wave of relief.

"It's okay, it's just Jamie," I say to Sara, who looks quickly over to Jamie, most of the tension draining out of her.

"Holy Jesus," Sara breathes.

Jamie blushes a little but gives us a grin.

"Hey, don't mind me," she says, more to Sara than to me, laying her bag on one of the bunks. "I mean, at least you're _clothed _this time!" She gives me a playful smirk and my whole heart fills up with affection for her. Sara manages to give an embarrassed smile, just a little one.

"Sorry," she says anxiously.

"Oh, don't be," Jamie says, waving it away. "I'll be in the bathroom for at least twenty minutes," she adds suggestively, and I laugh. Sara scowls at me but she's smiling. She looks at her watch.

"Should we set a timer?" I ask and she scowls at me again but pulls herself quickly on top of me.


	19. All Eyes Were On Our Table

**Author's Note: Comments, people, I need comments! What are you thinking of the sequel so far?! Help motivate me to post Chapter Four! It's done and just needs to be proofread… if you want it! ;)**

**Part II: It Only Fuels the Flames**

**Chapter 3: All Eyes Were On Our Table**

Tegan's arms are around me again as the sick feeling fades. She saw us, but she's seen worse. She saw us that night in Calgary when she returned to the hotel room where we had fallen asleep naked, accidentally. She came in and we had only a sheet partly covering us and we were all tangled up in each other. I woke up when I heard the door and Tegan woke a half-second later to the sound of Jamie's voice. _Shit, I'm sorry,_ she said, embarrassed, for herself and for us, and quickly backed out of the room.

That night had been different. It was the first time we'd been alone since the awful conversation at the airport where I told her it had to stop. In Vancouver, Jamie was there and things with her and Tegan were complicated and we all felt tense and uncertain I think. So much had happened and I just wanted to fix it. I looked at Tegan and just wanted to fix _her_because she was so broken. She told me about how those few days in Vancouver had been and I kind of wanted to hug Jamie for being there for Tegan but another part of me was like fucking throbbing with jealousy. _None of this is her fault. She's not the one who is wrong, _I had to remind myself. _You are the fucking sick one. It's you. Not her. You. _I told myself that again and again in Vancouver, while I felt lost, adrift, homeless.

What was going on with them? I needed to know. Like, I knew they were having sex but that's not what I mean. I mean I needed to know the _nature _of what was going on between them. It had been obvious to me that Jamie was in love with Tegan, and I wondered if Tegan was too fucking oblivious to notice it or whether she was just carelessly doing what she felt in the moment without thinking about the fact that someone's heart was in danger. Or if there was something much more to it.

That night in Calgary, Jamie went out to a movie with the boys. Tegan and I needed to be alone but I didn't know what that meant. We would either fight or we would grab at each other the way drowning victims grab at life preservers. And it sometimes isn't clear to me which of those two things will happen until they are already happening. They both come from the same place inside of us. Like how is it possible that I could want to strangle her, or something inside of me would make me want to lash out and hurt her because I know I can and it's so easy and it hurts me too and I know I deserve it. . . and then a moment later the desire to put my arms around her is so intense that I think my heart will cave in? This intense pulling that I have to fight against because my whole brain is telling me _this is absolutely not how you are supposed to feel and there is something profoundly wrong with you _while all the rest of me is like dying of starvation. For my sister. _Fuck._

As it turned out, we didn't fight. We stood in that room, moments after Jamie had left, and Tegan looked at me with this expression that just mirrored everything that was going on inside of me, and can you even imagine what a relief that is? When things are too big to put into words but the other person is just reflecting it all back at you and just knows so you don't have to say anything? I think I started it. I think it's almost always me starting it, just like it's always me running away because I'm a frosted lemon coward next to her. People might not realize it but she's actually the strong one.

And then we were on each other and it's strange the way you can suddenly almost see yourself doing it and feel almost no agency over your own actions. We looked at each other for a long moment and when she circled around to my side of the bed and stood in front of me, her eyes were sad the way my guts felt. Sad and hungry, pushing and pulling, and after a moment of her standing there and giving me that gentle, almost beseeching look, I reached out and took her face in both of my hands and kissed her like all the oxygen in the world came from her mouth and her arms were around me. We were like those monkeys in that experiment those sick, twisted doctors performed years ago, where the baby monkeys were taken from their mothers and kept in glass enclosures with no physical contact. We were like those baby monkeys because depriving them of that made them sick and insane but all we want is to press against each other until we both die and that makes us sick and insane too.

Then we were on the bed and I needed to feel her skin so badly that I was just throbbing all over and her mouth on my neck was making me shiver. She was wearing that plaid shirt she likes so much and the buttons were harder for me to manage with my hands shaking a little. My hands always shake when she touches me. It wasn't dark yet, I remember, and the reason that stands out is because we had been naked together before but it had always been dark and so when I got her bra off, she pulled me closer and tried to hide and when she pulled my shirt over my head I felt the same way. She was milky and soft and warm and her body was so much like mine that it gave me chills. So much like mine except a little more fullness in her hips and breasts. And it was the first time I'd felt her nipple harden against my tongue, her hands in my hair as it happened, her moans soft and low.

Moments later she was pulling my jeans and my underwear off with both of her hands and I never thought it was possible to feel more naked but her eyes were on mine and she came back and we kissed again and part of me wanted to bite her lips but I didn't, and part of me wanted to eat her tongue but I didn't. Instead, I rolled onto her and my hand moved down her body and found that wetness that was the same as I felt and for a moment my head fucked me up again, like _your sister is wet for you _and then I thought about being in Vancouver and kissing Jamie because something about that seemed sane, and made it seem okay, and if I'd had a chance I would have gotten naked with both of them because somehow it didn't seem as sick that way. And then I guess my brain wanted to rescue me from my sickness because I thought of the almost nine months Tegan and I spent naked pressed against each other, wet and floating, and for a second I didn't care. We were one egg and then we were two people and we grew from nothing together in a dark watery place and we belong together. We're the same stuff! We touched each other then, before we were even aware of it, so why can't we do it now? The idea that I can't touch her is like someone telling me I can't touch myself. And while sometimes I admit that the fear and anger I feel make me just want to fuck her, I didn't feel like that at that moment and maybe that's because she's so gentle so that's how I felt, too, or maybe it's because we'd made each other cry enough by then.

Then my fingers were inside of her, warm and wet and squeezing like that, my God, and the moment before she came, I kissed her again because the moment when she comes I want to feel the vibrations from her voice moving through me and then, when it really happens, she can no longer kiss me back but squeezes me so hard. For a second I wished I had the strap on so I could feel her squeeze me with all of her limbs. But for another second I wished I were a boy so we could feel that together. And for yet another second I didn't wish for anything because the spasms inside of her squeezed my fingers again and again and I thought I'd pass out because I don't know how to get closer to her than that. And she's always so sweet in that moment and for a second I wonder if she was sweet like that with Jamie but I don't have much time to think about it because she says something to me in a whisper,_I need to feel you, _and then she is rolling over me and my stomach flips right over when she presses down on top of me and pushes one knee aside. She's never done that and it really does something unexpected to my body. And then I feel that constriction in my throat, that almost-panic I get when I am no longer able to tell myself that I am just doing something for her but that I am getting pleasure from being touched by my sister. But pleasure isn't really the word for it, any more than desert flowers get pleasure from rain. Man, I'm almost as cheesy as Tegan but how do you describe something like that without sounding cheesy? The desire to be touched by her is like, the same desire that the planets feel about maintaining their orbit around the sun. What happens if it stops? They will be flung out into space and explode and scatter and become nothing.

And so I wanted to stop her but I couldn't and when her hot hand touched me I knew what she found there and the sudden upsurge of shame collided with the intense need for her to_not stop_ because I was so turned on already it only took a few minutes for me to come, with her mouth on my breast, my hands in her hair, and then around her tight as she slid up to my face and kissed me again. Like often happened when we kissed, my mind flashed to our first kiss when we were sixteen and she sang _this is the last honest look I'll ever give_ and how I didn't even know how much pain I was causing her and something came over us and we kissed each other in a way that surprised us. A moment before that she'd sung _I don't know how to hold you without shaking _and she must have been fucking psychic because we were both shaking and we've been shaking ever since. And she grabbed the front of my stupid tiger t-shirt and totally just clung to it when she came and for a moment it was so beautiful I thought I'd fucking die and then I remembered who she was and I was ashamed and that made me angry and the fear made me run off and leave her like that, still shaking. And I didn't see that shirt again for about eleven years.

But this time, she touched me slowly and tenderly but I came easily and fast, and the tears came too, suddenly, surprisingly, a moment later. She murmured something, worried, and gently removed her fingers and came back to me. I covered my eyes because who doesn't feel stupid for crying after sex?

"I'm sorry," I said to her, but the spasms in my chest interfered with all of my words. "I'm so sorry. . . about. . . Casey," I managed to get out. It was a relief to finally say it but when you try not to cry all the time, and it finally comes out, watch out. And then Tegan was there and she touched my face and pressed her cheek against mine. We were both warm and damp and sticky.

"Shhhh, I'm sorry too," she said softly. "I'm sorry for hurting you. . . everything with Jamie. . ." I just decided not to fight the wave of tears anymore because that was just fucking exhausting. So I cried and let her hold me which was a rare rare thing. And she's pretty fucking emo so when I cried, she did a little bit, too. So we just stayed like that, wrapped up in each other.

So Jamie found us like that, yeah. We didn't mean to but we fell asleep stuck to each other. We'd rolled and shifted and wrapped ourselves around each other and I was half on top of her with one leg over her hip and the sheet was barely covering us and we were both naked and we fell asleep and then Jamie came in and then quickly went back out and I was horrified but Tegan wasn't, not really. She was only a little embarrassed and said _she already knows! _and _I don't think she saw anything too shocking_. And so she kissed me again in that way that nobody else in the universe will ever be able to do. _You're me and you're mine and I'm you and I'm yours._ Then we got dressed.


	20. It Was After Noon

**Author's Note: Thanks for the awesome feedback, guys. Keep it coming and Chapter 5 will be up in a few days!**

**Chapter 4: It Was After Noon**

"_Tegan, you're fit!"_ a girl in the Brighton crowd bellowed after the second song. Tegan looked around in the crowd for the speaker as several more people shouted their agreement. There was a lot of shoving and jostling up front but Jamie was safely on the other side of the barrier, with the security, so she didn't care. She zoomed in on Tegan's face as Tegan addressed the concept of her being _fit._

"I'm _fit,_" Tegan mused, tuning her Les Paul. "I was texting my mom this morning and telling her that in England, my body type is very athletic." There was laughter, hoots, and more than a little insane screeching.

"_In England, fit means sexy!" _a loud female voice shouted. Tegan nodded.

"Oh, don't you know we know it_-"_

"_It means we want to have sex with you!" _came the same voice.

"Oh, I realize you want to have sex with me," Tegan said to ecstatic shrieks from the crowd. Tegan's eyes flicked briefly to Jamie's camera, a slight wry smile crossing her lips. Jamie shivered a little as Sara stepped up to the mic.

"I think, the fact is that you. . . that you guys have like, this unrealistic, like, expectation of Tegan and if-"

"Come on," Tegan cut her off.

"No, I mean, I want to help them, like, because they're all screaming, like, orgasmically over you and if-"

"This is why there are sketchy fan sites about us. Because you say stuff like that," Tegan pointed out, and Sara laughed.

"No, I just mean that, like, maybe they haven't really considered the fact that you're actually just a human being and like, realistically, they'd probably be disappointed." Jamie could barely believe what she was recording.

"_DISAPPOINT ME, TEGAN!" _someone screamed, to the mirth of those on stage and in the crowd.

"All right!" Sara laughed. "That person has the right idea. Keep the expectations low."

"Yeah. I'm actually a very selfish lover," Tegan said, and Sara laughed.

"Yeah. You're like, you're probably like those people who go out for drinks with friends and as soon as it's your turn to buy a round you're like, 'whoah, look at the time!'" Tegan was laughing now, too, shaking her head at the weird analogy.

"Totally. This may not be the best time to tell you all this but for this tour, for our UK tour we rented a second bus just for me and Sara and like-" The response from the crowd was suggestively enthusiastic. Jamie laughed in disbelief.

"Yeah, this is probably _not _the time to divulge that, like, that little. . . morsel," Sara said, gripping the microphone stand.

"Haha, well, like, we've been touring for like a decade and for a lot of that time we were crammed into cars and mini-vans and like stacked up like pancakes and. . . for the last couple of years we've been sharing a bus with like eleven _thousand _people and we're like-"

"We need our space," Sara added.

"It's really Sara. She's so grumpy. Like you can't even talk to her before she's had like, six cups of coffee," Tegan laughed.

"More like two. But okay," Sara conceded. People screamed. Sara looked skeptical.

"I don't really know if that's worth all the, like, _hooting_, but. . ."

"Like I don't know if you know this but on our last record we had a trumpet player but Sara killed him. We were a ska band," Tegan said as Sara laughed. "But our trumpet player kept talking to Sara in the morning so she killed him and then we had to become a 'folk duo.'" Tegan made air-quotes around the words, to more cheers. "And anyway so we got this bus just for the two of us but there was a mix-up and we ended up with this bus with like one _huge _bed in the back when like we'd specifically requested one with two beds but we got this, like, ridiculously huge bed-"

"Seriously. It's like, the, like the most obscene bus. It's like, a porno bus-" Jamie thought the sound wave from the screams would knock her over. "Yeah. Awesome. So now I'm 28 and sharing a bed with my sister. Who kicks me like, sixty times a night. Like, it's like we're seven years old again except without the Spiderman pajamas-" The wave of shrieks washed over Jamie as she filmed, her back against the barrier, in amused, stunned disbelief.

"Okay, sure. You're the victim, when like, I'm the one waking up in the middle of the night freezing to death because you have all the blankets-" Jamie turned the camera back to Sara to catch her response. _Are they literally talking about sleeping together? In front of a crowd of people?_

"Okay. Okay. Yeah, and you snore. So I may have all the blankets but I still don't sleep."

"I don't _snore. _Only middle-aged fat guys snore!" Tegan cried incredulously to Sara's amusement.

"Oh, you do!" Sara assured her. Sara's eyes flicked to Jamie, too, but only until she caught herself. Tegan, however, looked down to Jamie and addressed her.

"Jamie, I don't snore, do I?" Sara looked like she might fall down. The hooting and jostling from the crowd buffeted Jamie from behind. "No! No! Perverts, you're all perverts!" Tegan said, backpedaling. "Jamie has a bunk on our bus. It's the girls' bus. Come on!" Jamie was laughing, her face heating up, as she kept the camera on Tegan. She honestly had no recollection of Tegan snoring. "Oh, Jamie sleeps like the dead, she wouldn't know." Sara laughed and looked at Jamie, who laughed too, and shrugged.

"I think the point is that we should have like, just stayed in our cramped little bunks because at least then, nobody was kicking us," Sara suggested.

"Yeah. I miss my bunk," Tegan said.

"Yeah. I miss sleeping directly above Ted. Ted, do you miss having me on top of you?" Sara asked cheekily, and Ted laughed, chewed his gum, and nodded. More deafening cries from the crowd - it sounded to Jamie like they had gone past the point of amusement and were now just screaming out of hysteria - with Sara and Tegan clearly enjoying the reaction they were provoking from the mostly-lesbian crowd, despite their protests.

"God. So inappropriate," Tegan said. "And Johnny, do you miss me sleeping under you?" Johnny laughed, nodding.

"Tegan's such a bottom," Sara said.

"_TOP ME TEGAN!_" came the frantic cry from the crowd, followed by a series of shouts of agreement.

"Someone's not listening," Sara put in, to Tegan's amusement.

"Yeah, like Sara said, I'd just disappoint you," Tegan said to the crowd. "This next one's for all the tops in the crowd." Screams, some shouts of _Sara! Sara! _ From the stage, Ted gave Jamie a wry grin and Jamie laughed, with a little nod. Tegan nodded, laughing, and added. "Yeah, this one's for Sara."

. . . .

Jamie climbed onto the bus, borrowed camera in hand, careful to make a reasonable

amount of noise before she entered.

"Any luck?" Sara asked her, pouring a cup of coffee in the kitchen area.

"Well, they said it shouldn't be too hard to fix, and they should have it ready in time for us to pick it up when we're back in London," Jamie explained, holding up the borrowed camera. "But they let me borrow this one in the meantime. It's almost the same. So, next time you guys think it's a good idea to hand out the set list yourself before leaving the stage, maybe give me a little, like, warning, or. . ."  
"Oh, yeah, sorry about that," Tegan said, cringing.

"Yeah, I didn't expect them to dive like that," Sara said apologetically, glancing over at Tegan. "But that's good, because Tegan was planning on being super interesting for this part of the tour so it would be a shame to not, like, be able to capture that." Tegan smiled, handed a hoody to Sara as she slid past her and went to the fridge.

"When am I _not _super interesting is a better question," Tegan said, grabbing a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and sitting down next to Sara in the dining area. Jamie sat across from them and switched on the camera, scrolled through a few menus. Sara was concentrating on a sudoku puzzle in a newspaper and Tegan leaned in close, presumably to get a better look, but it was clear to Jamie that this was just a pretext to get close to Sara. Tegan's eyes idly scanned over the puzzle as she pressed her lips against Sara's shoulder. Sara tensed, her pencil halfway through writing a number, frozen.

"Tegan," Sara said, her voice quiet but tense, and Tegan's mouth smiled against her shoulder.

"It's fine," Tegan said with a laugh, teasing, her voice almost as low. "She's seen us naked, so. . ."

"God, don't remind me," Sara muttered, writing little numbers in the little boxes, blushing as Tegan

lay one hand on her arm. Jamie, testing the white balance on the camera, was surprised that this innocent contact between them had such an effect on her; the warmth spread through her as Sara relaxed, a little, under Tegan's touch.

"So, guys. Twenty-eight," Jamie said.

"Yep! Coming to the party tomorrow?" Sara asked.

"Haha. . . where else would I be? Do you think you want cameras there?" Jamie asked, and they glanced at each other.

"Well. . ." Tegan started skeptically.

"Yeah. We don't want to miss it if Tegan gets drunk and passes out with her shirt

up over her head," Sara said.

"Definitely. We need to preserve those moments for all time," Tegan said sarcastically.

"Well I'll bring the camera then," Jame said, switching it off. "It looks fine. Ready to go?"

With the camera in hand, Jamie set out with them to take in a few of the London sights on their day off. At Piccadilly Circus, Jamie got Sara on camera saying "How is this a circus? There are literally like, _no _elephants here." They went to some overpriced shops with surly staff, ate some fantastic Indian food, and ended up on a nearly-empty boat for a Thames River tour. They sat on bench seats facing each other; Sara and Tegan sat together, their legs touching while Jamie, across from them, filmed the sights and kept her lens off of the two of them as Tegan took hold of one of Sara's hands, pulled it into her lap and squeezed it with both of hers.

"Tegan, aren't you worried that, like, the other tourists will be asking themselves 'why are those two girls with the same face, like, touching each other like that. . .'?" Sara asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"We don't have the same face," Tegan said with a smile.

"But still. We definitely look _related," _Sara argued, but didn't pull her hand away from Tegan's two-handed grasp.

"The boat's almost empty," Tegan went on, her smile never leaving her face. Jamie smiled too, her camera fixed on the sights that swept past as they motored down the river.

"Yeah, but you're making Jamie uncomfortable," Sara said, grasping. Jamie gave them a

brief look, smiling, and turned her gaze back to her camera, as if nothing in the world could possibly interest her more.  
"You really aren't," she said.

"Maybe if we get naked and fall asleep on top of each other," Tegan suggested cheekily, to an increasingly red-faced Sara.

"Jesus, Tegan, you're like. . . shameless," Sara said, awed, shocked, embarrassed. Tegan laughed, smiled, and her smile faded. She was quiet for a moment.

"I wish that were true."

"I didn't mean-" Sara started, alarmed.

"I know," Tegan said dismissively, turning her head to Sara, smiling warmly. Sara met her gaze with a look that was both warm and questioning. She glanced around quickly; there were two other couples on the boat, but they were both up in front, facing the other way. Sara looked back at Tegan, and Jamie thought for a moment that they might kiss, but instead, Tegan dropped her eyes to Sara's hand, which she held snugly, and Sara's eyes turned back to the river.


	21. Before You Were Out of Bed

**Author's Note: It's a miracle! Another chapter right away! Also, I've been forgetting to add a new feature of Part II: the soundtrack! Soundtrack for this chapter is "Satellite Mind" by Metric, another great Canadian band. Go to Youtube and type in "metric satellite mind with lyrics" and watch the first one that comes up. You'll figure out why it's the track for this chapter… tell me if you don't. ;)**

**Chapter 5: Before You Were Out of Bed**

Later, back in the bus, tired from all day on and off the Underground, up and down stairs,

in and out of crowds, they crashed out on the plush three-sided sofa and put on a movie. Shaun came over briefly, and watched about half of the movie with them before leaving to meet up with friends. While Shaun was there, Tegan and Sara sat two meters apart. Jamie found it hard to ignore them, though she tried; the energy between them was palpable. She half-watched the movie while trying to write replies to emails from home, and when Shaun left, Jamie half-expected them to move closer to each other, but they didn't. She was starting to have difficulty keeping her eyes open, so she shut the computer off and lay back, listlessly watching the movie until her eyes closed.

The human mind is an incredibly malleable thing. Less than a year ago, I was trying to wrap my head around what I half-saw and half-heard through a drug-induced haze, trying to reconcile that with what I knew and what I felt. And the equation at first seemed to be, _they are sisters having sex_. And that equation was more shocking than anything I'd ever tried to comprehend, especially given who they were - to thousands of fans, to the public, and to me. But so much has happened since then that I can hardly remember the way I felt when I first saw it. All I've seen and heard since then has made me believe that they belong together, that they need each other in a way that nobody else can understand. When Sara clenched her fingers together and said _we're the same stuff_, one more piece of the puzzle slid into place and it all made a little more sense. And knowing that about them - knowing that they are tied together so inextricably - makes it almost possible for me to live with how I feel about Tegan, even though all of those feelings still overwhelm and nearly crush me every day.

What do you do when you've fallen irretrievably for someone that you've always known you can't - will never - be able to have? What do you do? What _can_ you do? If it were something I could turn off like a light switch, believe me, I would have done it years ago. How can one person be worth torturing yourself over like this on a daily basis? Why her? I ask myself that question as often as Tegan probably asks herself what she asked me in Vancouver: "Why us?" We're suffering on different sides of the same problem, and it's illogical and irrational and insufferable and miserable. . . and there's not a fucking thing any of us can do about it. Except wait. Just wait, and hope that something - _anything_ - will change our insides. That somehow, someday, the feelings will subside and allow us to get on with our lives already. Sane, rational, socially acceptable lives. Not the life that happens when you're so in love with someone that you toss away everything you have in order to be near her, for even the shortest amount of time, the way I'd done for years. Even when you know that being near her will only twist the knife that's been stabbed clean through your gut for as long as you can remember, causing you to breathe carefully, to speak carefully, to move carefully. . . anything to avoid provoking the pain. And then, given the chance, you provoke it anyway. I mean, I knew what happened between me and Tegan in Vancouver couldn't last and I can still hardly believe it happened at all, but what else could I have done? I couldn't even stop it to protect my own sanity. And I don't like to think of myself as a cheater, or as someone who would help someone else cheat, and she wasn't even cheating then, exactly. . . and maybe I'm just rationalizing things now, but if anyone else wants to criticize, I'd like to see them do any better. Go on, I dare you. Anyone who thinks they would have done things differently is just lucky enough to have never had it happen to them. Yet.

But I knew, god, I knew, that it would end up just like it did; I knew that she would go back to Sara, because what else could _she_ have done? I didn't expect anything else, and I don't blame her for it. I just knew that in the end, I would be the one losing out; I knew that I would, again, be watching her touching Sara and feeling the kind of jealousy that has driven people to do insane things, and right now, I don't blame any of those people either. They're right when they say that jealousy can eat you alive. It's like being slowly drowned in acid. The one fucked-up bit of consolation I have is that if I can't have Tegan, I'd rather she be with Sara than anyone else. Maybe it's completely bizarre, but I know that nothing Tegan can have with me or anyone else can compete with that bond they have, which started before they were even born. And knowing that, and knowing that what Tegan needs in order to be happy is _Sara, _makes me want to try to support them in their struggle in any way that I can, just like I always have, no matter what it has done to me. When I told Tegan I would be her cover to protect them, I meant it. Even if it shreds my guts, I will do it if that's all I can give to her.

And in the meantime, what will I do? Continue on with this fake life here, this suspended reality, with no hope of it ending up like I wish it would? What will happen when they don't need me anymore and there's no reason for me to stay? I don't have a real life anymore. I gave it all up, for what? To chase a wish? And the sad part is, I'd do it again. Being around Tegan all the time creates so many triggers, and not only pineapple yogurt. When she squeezes past me on the bus, and her hand grazes over my hip, I'm back in her bed again, her hands sliding up my legs to my hips, her lips against my collarbone. In the most innocent of moments, she says a few words to me and smiles and I can taste her mouth and feel her warmth flooding through me, a wave of sensation, a wave of recollection that almost knocks me over. Does this happen to her too? I think of asking _her _to remember those days in Vancouver and now I wonder, does she? Does she ever lay awake at night remembering mylips on hers? If she did, knowing it would make this easier for me. But when I see them near each other, the jealousy I feel seems so petty, and I'm ashamed of it and know I need to push it down. I can't interfere with something that nature designed. If it were someone other than Sara who possessed Tegan's heart while she possessed mine, it would be a different thing entirely. I would want to hold her head under water. But it's _Sara_. Arguing with that would be like arguing with pandas for eating bamboo. Like Tegan said, maybe the pandas would love coconuts, but they can't live without bamboo and there is no argument that can change it.

And so I'm around them when they're around each other and I give them hints, and smiles; I give

them time; permission; I try to make them feel at ease, which they've never had before, which nobody but me has ever been able to give them. But it may be that the only happiness they will ever really have is that which they grab from each other alone in the dark.

The voices in the movie come back to me and when I reluctantly open my eyes, I see them on their side of the sofa. Tegan has moved and now her head is in Sara's lap, their eyes on the screen, Sara's hand on Tegan's arm. My eyes are on the screen too but I see them; a moment later, Tegan shifts and lays on her back, facing up at Sara, saying nothing. And Sara looks down at her too, also saying nothing. Sara's hand moves through Tegan's hair, smoothing it back. It's a sweet moment and it warms me but they think I'm asleep so I stretch, extend my legs, and keep my eyes on the screen. Sara tenses a little but Tegan shakes her head slowly against Sara's lap and whispers something I can't hear. Something amusing happens on screen and I give a very short and soft laugh; see, you guys? I'm awake, and I see you, and I see this moment between you and everyone's fine.

I can make out bits of their murmured conversation. Just bits. Sara's hand is still in Tegan's hair as I hear Tegan's voice, _it's fine_. I can't help myself: I turn my eyes to them briefly and Sara's eyes are on Tegan, her face uncertain. Tegan smiles at her and says _it's fine, she's fine_, very quietly. _Why don't you just kiss me? _Tegan murmurs with a slight smile, and when Sara takes a breath and tenses, Tegan says _Don't check. Look at me. Don't check Jamie; it's fine. _I can't help but smile at the screen, and I see in my periphery that Sara struggles to resist checking to see if I'm noticing them or not. She keeps her eyes on Tegan and after a moment's more of hesitation, she bends down, one hand in Tegan's hair and the other on her cheek, and she presses her lips against Tegan's. They kiss for several seconds and it's sweet and hot and I try not to look, keep my eyes on the movie that I have not been paying much attention to. Sara lifts her head again and Tegan chuckles a little.

"See?" she says at a normal, audible level. "Jamie saw us and nobody died."

"Tegan, she's watching the movie," Sara mutters, embarrassed.

"Jamie, you saw us, right? Didn't you?" Tegan says, turning her head to me. "I'm just asking because Sara thinks we'll all die if you see us kiss but you did, right?" I laugh a little, self-conscious that I've been caught, that she knows I was watching.

"Yeah, I did."

"Did you die?" Tegan asks me, with that same cheeky grin.

"Haha, no. Well, I might have died, a little, from the cuteness. But that's it," I say in a way that I hope comforts them, despite the way it twists in my guts. Sara's face reddens and she stares at the floor; Tegan grins even wider.

"Awwww see? We're _cute_. It's fine," Tegan says to Sara, who just shakes her head. "If you want-"

But Tegan doesn't have a chance to finish her offer; we hear a knock on the door of the bus open up ahead. We are not visible from the door of the bus, but Sara and Tegan spring away from each other as though they're electrified. Sara's face is suddenly white; she crawls back into the corner of the sofa and Tegan quickly comes and sits by me as Johnny comes in.

"Hey girls," he says with a smile at all of us.

"Hey Johnny, what's up?" Sara asks, her voice slightly tremulous.

"There are no girls on our bus. It's boring and smelly," he says, sitting down next to me. He stays and watches the rest of the much-ignored movie while Tegan and Sara sit a few meters apart from each other, silently.

A couple of hours later now, in my bunk, unable to sleep. I'm going through my Twitter feed when the sounds of their voices reach me. It's late; if I'd been asleep, these sounds wouldn't have woken me, but I'm awake and it's clear what I'm hearing. Their gasps and moans, I've heard before. But this time it's different. They're not loud, but their voices are less fearful, less restrained. I hear rustling, heavy breaths, soft voices. Maybe they think that I'm asleep and I can't hear, or that the thin fiberglass door is enough of a barrier. Or maybe they don't care if I can hear them. The sounds they make create a physiological response in me that I try to ignore. I hear Tegan's voice intensify in a way that is now so familiar to me, and I am flooded with memories of her, of her face, her voice, her skin. I feel the inside of her with my fingers; I feel her ankles lock together at the small of my back as she is there, under me, pressing up against me with her hips. I remember her moaning against my lips. All of these memories assault me as I lay there, my body responding to their voices, their sounds. I follow their wave up, up, and then down into sleep.


	22. And I Was Able to Concentrate

**Chapter 6: And I Was Able to Concentrate**

"This is seriously. . . I mean, I thought this was like, an urban legend or something. . ." Sara said, as Shaun handed her the sticky, melting mess in its styrofoam container.

"Oh my God, it's so good," Tegan mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate and caramel. "But it's like, hotter than the centre of the earth." She reached for Jamie's can of Coke.

"Do you want to try some?" Ted asked Jamie, who looked dubious.

"Why do these people feel the need to deep fry everything?" she laughed. "As if a Mars bar isn't bad enough, let's roll it in flour and fry it in oil."

"Oh totally," Ted agreed. "It's fucking delicious though. Shaun?"

"No thanks," he said, with a slight grimace. "My body's a temple."

"Then what's mine?" Ted asked him.

"Maybe like. . . a bowling alley?" Sara suggested. Ted snorted at her.

"You can talk, Miss Sour Cream and Onion Chips," he pointed out with a laugh.

"Hey, everyone has their vices," Sara replied, glancing at Johnny and the tensor bandage around his wrist. "I mean, just look at Johnny!"

Everyone did.

"Uh. . . why should everyone look at Johnny?" he asked.

"Well maybe if you could lay off the. . . self abuse. . . you wouldn't have a bandage on your wrist!" Sara said. Ted laughed, choking slightly on liquefied caramel.

"Oh, I don't think any of the other _boys _should laugh at that," Tegan put in.

"Why? Ted and I don't have Repetitive Strain Injury," Shaun said.

"You also don't play the drums!" Johnny protested. Jamie smiled at him, finding his embarrassment cute.

"Oh sure. Blame the drums," Sara said as Tegan stepped in front of Jamie.

"Seriously. Just try it," she said earnestly, holding the melting monstrosity up to Jamie's face. Tegan grinned, and Jamie took a bite. Her eyes widened as she looked at Tegan. "Right?"

"It's ridiculous that it even exists, but it's good," Jamie admitted, through a mouthful of goo.

"I wanted to try the-"

Tegan was distracted by the sudden proximity of two teenage girls who were eyeing them questioningly. At a quick glance, Jamie doubted they were fans.

"Hey," one of the girls said to Sara. "Aren't you in that band. . . the one with that song about a ghost?" she asked, and Sara smiled.

"Yeah, that's us," she said, gesturing around. The girls scanned the group and spotted Tegan.

"Oh yeah, I recognize you," said the shorter one with blonde hair and eyes that were too close together. "It's brilliant that you covered the White Stripes," she said, to a happy nod from her taller friend.

"Uh, well actually-" Tegan started.

"So are you all twins, then?" the tall one interrupted. Jamie and the boys stood quietly, amused by the interaction, waiting for Sara's patience to run out.

"Yeah, we are," Tegan said with a polite smile.

"I reckon people mix you up all the time," the short one said.

"I wish I had a twin," the tall one added.

"Well who doesn't? Built-in friend," Tegan said.

"Yeah. Someone to share everything with, including your face," Sara added.

"So like, I heard you were both. . . gay," the blonde one said, and Jamie thought for a second how weird it was that she was hesitant to ask and yet curious enough to ask regardless.

"That's right," Tegan said with a smile. The two girls looked at each other.

"_Both _of you?" the tall one asked, her blue eyes wide with surprise.

"Yep. Both of us, queer as a three dollar bill," Sara said. Ted snorted and gave Jamie a look as she grinned back at him.

"Isn't that, like. . . weird?" the tall one asked incongruously.

"Being gay? Totally," Tegan said with a smirk.

"I mean like, _both _of you. . ." the girl explained. Tegan raised an eyebrow and gave Sara an amused look.

"Well we _are _genetically identical so it would kind of be _more _weird if just _one _of us was gay, don't you think?" Tegan pointed out, to dubious looks from the girls.

"So like, I heard that you guys make out and things on stage. Is that true?" the short one asked; Jamie, shocked, looked at them, at Tegan, and back at the girls in disbelief.

"Jesus," Jamie breathed as Tegan reddened and Sara's jaw locked as she looked ready to tear out someone's throat, namely the blonde girl's.

"I think maybe this is the end of the conversation," Ted said, intervening.

"Well that's what people say, so-" the tall one started as Ted and Johnny maneuvered in between the girls and Sara.

"What a. . . what an. . . insane. . ." Sara stuttered, as Shaun put a hand on her shoulder.

"It was nice to meet you," Johnny said in a _this conversation is over _kind of way.

"Whatever. It was just a question," the blonde one shrugged, starting to walk away.

"Do you have a sister?" Shaun said after them. "Think of what you're saying."

The two walked away; the blonde one shrugged again and the tall one gave Sara a contemptuous look over her shoulder. Jamie met eyes with Tegan, who was too stunned to say anything.

"Holy fuck," Ted said in disbelief.

"How could they think it was okay to ask something like that?" Johnny asked in disbelief. "They would never ask a brother and a sister that."

"Yeah, like somehow being gay makes it okay?" Shaun mused.

"Or more likely? Seriously," Johnny added, and Jamie felt a tight knot in her stomach as Tegan made anxious eye contact with her. _Make this conversation stop, _her eyes seemed to say. _Make it stop before they say anything worse._

"Well, happy birthday," Jamie said with a wry grin.

"Thanks," they both said back, simultaneously.

"Yeah, let's get you guys drunk and take advantage of you," Ted said with a laugh.

"Sounds awesome," Sara replied.

. . . . . . .

"Have you seen Tegan?" Sara asked later, as Jamie walked into the back room of the dark pub they had rented out for the party.

"Yeah," Jamie said, looking around at the group of people. "She's outside being accosted by fans."

"Accosted like. . . earlier?" Sara asked, reddening again and glancing down at the floor. _You don't need to be embarrassed about it all the time_, Jamie thought.

"No these are like, actual fans. The adoring type," Jamie said quickly.

"Oh, well, good."

"And only three of them. One of them was like, hyperventilating. . ." Jamie said with a laugh, "and the other two were babbling. Haha, I know exactly how they feel. . ." Sara gave her a grin.

"You never babbled," she said, and for a moment, Jamie was struck again with the unreality of it all.

"Oh God," she looked down and laughed nervously. "Thanks, I'm glad. . ."

When Tegan came back, she was in better spirits.

"They were sweet," she said to Jamie as they both went up to the bar to order a drink. Tegan glanced over at Sara, who was being hugged by their tour manager, their guitar tech, and Ted, all at the same time. "I thought one of them was going to have a stroke, though."

"Yeah, they all seemed pretty overwhelmed," Jamie said. Tegan ordered cider, and a cranberry juice for Jamie. "I remember how that feels." Tegan gave her a warm look.

"And look at you now," she said with a smile. Jamie snorted.

"Yeah, just look at me," she said, unable to keep the irony out of her voice. "Oh, hey," she said, remembering. She opened her bag and pulled out a small wrapped package. "Happy birthday," Jamie said, handing the package to a surprised Tegan.

"Oh, hey, nobody was supposed to. . ."

"Well, I know. But I. . . wanted to." Tegan smiled at her and hugged her. Jamie held her breath for a moment at the sensation of Tegan's warm body, arms around her, before putting her own arms around Tegan and returning the hug.

"Oooooh," Tegan grunted a little. "You're an awesome hugger." Tegan released her after a moment, one hand lingering on her arm, and Jamie waited for more words. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something," Tegan went on, and the sudden gravity gave Jamie a jolt.

"Oh, okay," she said, a little tense.

"Oh, it's okay. Ha, I shouldn't have said it like that. Can we sit?" Jamie chose a booth for them; Tegan was accosted and embraced by several more crew members before she reached the table. Jamie tweeted a happy birthday message to them and sipped her cranberry juice while she waited, and Tegan sat down next to her, turning to face her on the bench seat. Jamie felt a little jump in her stomach, and wanted to laugh at herself again.

"So, I just wanted to. . . check in," Tegan started. Jamie gave her a quizzical look.

"Check in?" she asked. She looked up at the thickening crowd. There were people she didn't recognize; members from one of the opening acts for the UK tour; Sara, being carried around on Shaun's back, had a plastic container of baked goods in her hand.

"Yeah, because. . . I. . . you've. . . seen us. . ." she started, seemingly losing steam when she was confronted with the actual fact of it. Jamie thought of helping, but waited. "You've seen us. . . I guess. . . I'm just worried that you might feel. . ." Tegan struggled, stopping and starting. She sighed.

"Go ahead," Jamie encouraged her.

"I don't want to hurt you," Tegan said, the words simple at the end. Jamie had been fine with where she had thought the conversation had been going, but those words, unexpected, brought a lump to her throat. "I mean, I don't know how you feel. . . seeing. . ." she trailed off. Jamie nodded, sipping some cranberry juice. Her mind argued with her over how much truth to tell.

"Well. . ." she started thoughtfully, her eyes dropping to Tegan's tree tattoo on the table in front of her, intensely remembering the other time that tree had been her comforting focal point when she was alone with Tegan. She turned a little, too, to face Tegan. "I can't lie. My feelings are. . . mixed," she said, with a little laugh, struggling to push down the lump in her throat. _Don't cry! _She told herself sternly. _Not now! _"But I really want you to be happy. I really do." Jamie gave her a reassuring smile. "But yeah, I mean, I think it's normal to feel a little bit. . ." Jamie shrugged, suddenly not satisfied with any of the adjectives she could put there. Tegan nodded. "I mean, you know. . ." her throat tightened suddenly, and the colour of her face changed to more closely resemble her drink. _You know I love you. _

"Maybe it would be better if. . . Sara and I. . . totally, like, cut out all the, um. . ." Tegan couldn't say it.

"No. . . no way," Jamie said, trying to smile., shaking her head. "You guys just. . . be yourselves.

I love it." Despite the ache in her chest, it was true. Tegan raised her eyebrows.

"You do?" she asked, surprised. Jamie nodded.

"Yeah, I mean. . . I'm. . . jealous, haha," she said with an anxious laugh. "For sure. But you guys, together, it's. . . um. . ." she stopped, feeling Tegan's warm eyes on her.

"It's what?" she asked, with an edge of hesitation.

"It's sweet," Jamie said, and paused, shrugging. "It's really sweet. . . And," she started with a mischievous grin, trying to lighten the mood while still telling the truth, "it's still. . . kind of. . . hot." Tegan bit her lip, shook her head.

"Really?" she asked doubtfully, and Jamie met her eyes, blushing slightly and nodding.

"Yeah."

"Why? I mean. . ."

"Well. . . obviously, because you're hot. And Sara looks just like you. So, therefore, it's like, hotness squared," she said with a laugh. Tegan laughed too.

"Is Sara hot?" Tegan asked, curious. Jamie snorted again because, under the circumstances, _what a question._

"Yeah, definitely," Jamie affirmed. Tegan looked thoughtful, peeled the corner of the label off of her cider bottle.

"So then why. . . um, why me and. . . not. . . I mean. . ." she rambled as she focused on the bottle label, embarrassed by her own question. Jamie decided to help with the question this time.

"Well, you're not. . . _clones,_" Jamie said.

"Well, we kind of _are, _technically," Tegan said with a laugh. Jamie smiled back but was at a loss for an answer to that question. Why Tegan and not Sara? "So it's funny for me. I mean, Sara's smarter than me. . . she's funnier. . . her songs are better. . ." Tegan said, shaking her head, and Jamie was surprised to hear all of that from her.

"Yeah. . . that may all be true," she said, teasing and pretending to think hard, and Tegan smirked.

"But you're. . . you." She finished softly, and sipped more juice in the silence. Tegan leaned in a little closer and pressed her lips against Jamie's shoulder. Jamie could feel her warm breath through the cotton of her shirt. Tegan gave her hand a squeeze and looked up, like she might say something, but stopped when Sara came over. She held the plastic container out to them.

"Cupcake?" she asked, sitting down across from them. Tegan reached for one.

"Where'd you get cupcakes?" she asked, handing one to Jamie and taking another.

"One of Shaun's local friends made them," Sara replied, pressing the lid back on.

"Are they good?" Tegan asked, peeling off the paper cup.

"Yeah. I've had two already," Sara said. "Hey Jamie, have you met Jeremy?" Jamie took a bite of the cupcake and shook her head, glancing over to where Sara was indicating. "Jeremy!" Sara waved him over, and he came over with a smile. Jamie looked up at him, tall, dark hair, pretty eyes.

"Jeremy, this is our videographer, Jamie," Tegan said. Jeremy extended a hand and Jamie took it. "We've been friends with Jeremy since junior high." Jamie noticed that Sara was grinning excessively. Tegan gave her a questioning look.

"Yep, I've known them since they were angry little boys," Jeremy said, taking a cupcake when Sara offered. Jamie detected a certain softness about him, and smiled.

"Haha, totally. Jeremy's been around for all of our ridiculous moments. Remember when I threw a chair at Trevor? Haha," Sara rambled, laughing. Tegan gave her a bemused look.

"Oh God, yes. But he deserved it," Jeremy said, as the tour manager, Chris, came by and touched him on the shoulder.

"Jeremy, help me with that case?" he asked.

"Oh, sure-"

"During the _birthday party? _No moving cases during the birthday party! We're having a party! Because we had a birthday!" Sara raved. "Our mother pushed us out of her v-hole twenty-eight years ago! That's worth celebrating!"

"We'll be right back," Jeremy said, and followed Chris outside.

"Jeremy's a really nice guy," Sara said to Jamie. "And Tegan totally turned him gay!" Tegan actually did a double-take.

"I. . . _what?"_ Tegan asked, in disbelief, as Jamie gave them a surprised look.

"Oh, you didn't tell Jamie that Jeremy took your virginity? Tegan!" Sara was extremely amused by it all. Jamie glanced at Tegan's incredulous face.

"What the fuck, Sara-"

"You have to tell her! She has the right to know!" Sara said, half-serious.

"It's not that I wouldn't-"

"She's in the sex chain!" Sara cried out, seemingly finding this to be of great comedic value, because she doubled over, her forehead making contact with the table as she laughed.

"Oh wow," Jamie said, embarrassed, but suddenly quite curious to hear about Jeremy.

"The sex chain, Sara? Are you drunk?" Tegan asked, taking another cupcake and handing one to Jamie. "These are good."

"Yep," Sara went on, looking at Jamie. "Jeremy was Tegan's first. How old were you? Sixteen?" Sara turned to Tegan.

"Seventeen, and shut up," Tegan said with an incredulous glare at Sara. _If you were seventeen, _Jamie thought, _that means that Sara was your first. . ._ When Jamie looked to Sara, something gave her the impression that Sara had just had the same realization; her look at Tegan went from cheeky, to surprised, to slightly sheepish.

"Okay well that's not _totally _accurate. . ." she mused thoughtfully. "I mean, I guess, technically, _I _was your first. . ."

"Jesus Christ, Sara! Seriously, what's wrong with you?" Tegan gasped, looking over at Jamie, whose mouth had dropped open.

"I mean, unless we're talking penetration, and then it would have been Jeremy because-"

"Sara. Sara. Stop. Hey," Tegan said, palms out. "Seriously. How much have you had to drink?"

"One pint. Why?" Sara asked, oblivious. Tegan took hold of the plastic tub full of cupcakes and pried the lid off. Bringing her face down close, she inhaled deeply, and looked up at Sara.

"Smell these," Tegan said, handing the container back to Sara, who sniffed, and looked up at Tegan, her eyes wide. She clapped one hand over her mouth.

"Oh no," she said, looking from Tegan to Jamie. "Oh, Jamie, oops! Hahaha wow, now we have yours!"

"My what?" Jamie asked, suddenly nervous, glancing sidelong at Tegan.

"Your virginity! Your brain's virginity, anyway! Hahaha!"

"Oh fuck," Tegan said as Jamie looked at her.

"My brain's. . . oh," she said, suddenly getting it, getting why they were smelling the cupcakes and why Sara seemed so willing to discuss such intimate things with them in the middle of their birthday party with two dozen people around.

"Shit, I'm sorry!" Sara said, shocked, but laughing. "Hahaha, damn. First you get roofied at the hotel bar and now. . . space cakes!" Tegan looked at Jamie reassuringly.

"It'll be fine. You'll be fine. I mean, in twenty or thirty minutes you're going to feel pretty high but. . . hahaha, I'm sorry," Tegan said, starting to laugh. "It's just so ironic."

"Haha, yeah, because it's the _irony _that's really the funny part here," Jamie said sarcastically.

"Well, they're in your body now, so you may as well just go with it! Ha! Not much else you can do!" Sara exclaimed. Jamie felt a little pang of anxiety.

"Okay but don't, like. . . leave me. . . somewhere, I mean. . ." Tegan looked at her and smiled.

"We won't. Don't worry."


	23. To Figure Out a Plan

**Author's Note: Merry Christmas, guys! Working on wrapping this up late into the night so that you all will wake up with a surprise beneath your tree. Enjoy! ;) After this I think you're going to want to know how the next chapters pan out, trust me... but in the meantime, leave a little present for me and tell me your favorite line/part of this chapter! ;)**

**Chapter 7: To Figure Out a Plan**

Some time later, I can't even tell how long. They're up ahead in the darkness, and I'm hanging back, a little, uncertain. There's a kind of heavy numbness in my limbs, a tingling in my extremities, and I follow them as they meander back to the bus. I hear laughter from somewhere, and I laugh a little, too. My body has never felt like this before and I feel like later I won't be able to describe it.

"Come on, Jamie!" Sara calls to me. Others are heading back to the buses, too, and some are going in search of a dance club. Sara and Tegan seem to have no interest in socializing with anyone else. Tegan puts an arm around Sara's shoulders and leans in, says something, and they both laugh.

Ted comes up behind me, and I jump.

"Oh! Ted. . ."

"You okay, Jamie?" he asks with a grin. "It seems you've been _tainted. . ."_ I feel like laughing because that's exactly what I thought.

"Yeah, fuck. . ." We catch up to the girls, who give me a grin.

"It's like you guys like, raped Jamie's brain," Ted says with a laugh, and they give me twin looks of surprised amusement.

"Uh oh," Tegan says. "Jamie, are you okay? You feel okay?" I nod. My head feels like it's on a boom, like a microphone on a movie set.

"Mmmhmmm, yep, sure, yeah," I hear myself say, laughing.

"Jesus. You've like, never, nothing, no drugs at all?" Sara asks, as though it's the most stupefying thing she's ever heard.

"Nope. You've broken my clean streak," I say, not really caring but wondering if I'll care later when my fingers aren't tingling anymore.

"Aww, well, if it makes you feel better, Ted's still a virgin!" Sara says, and Ted laughs.

"Totally," he says, mock-serious. "Want to be my first?" I laugh too, remembering the yogurt shop.

"I've already got your cherry, remember?" He laughs again. We all keep laughing.

"Oh yeah!" he cries.

"Jamie, are you a gold star?" Sara asks suddenly, intensely interested.

"Jesus, Sara! Boundaries!" Tegan protests as Ted heads off to join Johnny and Shaun on the guys' bus.

"Come on, what's the big deal? Tegan fucked Jeremy. It happens," Sara says.

"Oh, do you really want to open the door on that topic?" Tegan asks her as she unlocks the door to the small bus and we all pile inside. "Man, I need to lie down!" Sara says, kicking off her shoes, and follows Tegan to the back of the bus as I throw my jacket into my bunk.

"Hey, Jamie! Come back here!" Sara laughs, and I follow them. Tegan flops down on the huge bed and Sara dives on after her, landing with her head on Tegan's stomach.

"Oooof," Tegan says as they shift a little so Tegan is lying on her back, with her hands behind her head, and Sara on her side, leaning her head on one hand. I lie down on the bed, near the edge, giving them some space. The room tilts a little and I'm happy to be lying down.

"So? Are you?" Sara persists, but I've forgotten the question. I look at the pink text on Tegan's sleeveless t-shirt and try to read it. Why have I never tried to read it before? I can't.

"Am I what?" I ask.

"A gold star," Sara repeats. "Come on! Don't think about it! Just answer!" She's shifted again so that her head is resting on the crook of Tegan's elbow. Tegan turns her head towards Sara, and while I'm trying to formulate an answer to this question, Tegan's lips make contact with Sara's earlobe.

"Ummmmmmmmmm," I say, losing my train of thought as the warmth starts building in my lower abdomen.

"What do you mean, 'ummmmm?'" Tegan laughs, teasing me. "It's like, 'Let me think. Have I or have I not had a penis inside my-'" This time it's Sara who thinks it's too far; she slaps Tegan's leg and sits up. Tegan sits up too so they are sitting side by side. I can't be bothered to sit up; I look up at them from where I am laying.

"Okay, then, yes. If I have to choose an answer, then yes," I say cryptically, but it's the most honest answer I can give. Tegan gives me a grin.

"Well good. Boys are smelly anyway," she says.

"Jeremy wasn't smelly though, I'm sure," Sara says and Tegan chuckles.

"No," she says. Sara turns to Tegan and they look at each other for a long moment as I lie there, enjoying the smooth turning of the bed, of the room. Their faces are close together and I wonder if and when someone will speak when Sara leans in and kisses Tegan's mouth, their twin lips soft and moist together, and I watch them because they are right above me and they don't care and what else can I possibly look at? I'm warm all over now as they kiss again, and Sara places one hand on Tegan's chest and slowly starts pushing her down onto her back, on the bed, next to me. They don't stop kissing, and Tegan's hands move up to Sara's thighs as Sara straddles Tegan's hips, and for a moment, I see, Tegan opens an eye and looks at me to see my reaction and I feel like all the blood in my body has converged in one place. I've never seen it like this, right next to me, and they aren't shy and they don't care as Tegan's tongue passes over Sara's lips and a moment later, Sara bites a little on Tegan's lower lip. Sara lifts her face a little and looks into Tegan's eyes and they both breathe a little more deeply and I think I breathe more deeply too and I'm suddenly conscious that I'm tensing up all over. Their faces are so close together and Sara shifts over, her hand slides down, and she kisses Tegan again, slowly, and her hand tugs a little at the button on Tegan's jeans. _Jesus fuck, _my foggy brain is telling me as I feel things start to pulsate in _my_ jeans. _Her hand is going. . ._ The button is open and Sara unzips Tegan's pants and I hear a soft moan from Tegan, whose hand has moved up the outside of Sara's sweater, over her breast, her thumb sliding over a nipple, and my brain can't fathom what I'm seeing. Because it's a moment later and Sara's hand slides up under Tegan's t-shirt and I can see the fabric moving under the image of a pegasus on it as her hand moves beneath it, over Tegan's belly, her breasts, as the kiss intensifies.

I can hardly feel my legs when I ask myself if I should maybe leave but then Sara is kissing Tegan's neck and, as Sara's hand softly moves down Tegan's body, slowly, Tegan turns her head towards me, opens her eyes, meeting mine again, watching me, knowing, her face flushed, her lips parted as if to speak to me, but as Sara's hand slides down into her pants, she bites her lower lip, her head goes back, and her eyes close.

There's a deep intake of breath from Tegan and I see Sara's hand disappear into Tegan's boyish underwear, beneath her unzipped pants, and then slide and press against her there. I don't know how many seconds have passed since I've taken a breath because suddenly I feel lightheaded, and take a deep breath with Tegan. One of Tegan's thighs is between Sara's legs, and she presses her hips against Tegan's thigh as her fingers slide against Tegan in the exact place where all the blood in my body has collected and I don't believe it, I think that this can't be real, that it must be the drugs, but the room keeps shifting as my eyes move from Sara's working hand up to Tegan's damp face. Her eyes are closed as Sara continues stroking with her fingers, kissing and licking a little at Tegan's collar bone, her neck, and then her ear, as she slides up and finally kisses Tegan's lips again and Tegan is moaning now and a second later, while my fingers tingle and there is throbbing in all the tenderest places in my body, Sara breaks this intense kiss and Tegan whispers.

"_Sara,_" she says, in a voice that is almost enough to send me over the edge even though my name is not Sara. "_please_. . . _inside. . ."_

Maybe that sigh was mine, I don't know. Sara's face, flushed with arousal, so close to Tegan's, their eyes on each other as Sara presses her hand lower, deeper down into Tegan's open pants and even Sara moans slightly as she pushes into Tegan. I almost feel it too as Tegan's eyes roll back, a little, before her eyelids flutter closed, her back arching as she presses against Sara's hand. Sara increases her rhythm, pressing into Tegan, rocking against her body as they kiss, Tegan's hands grasping Sara's back. I remember the sensation of Tegan's nails against my skin as she grips Sara more tightly and I can almost feel them on my back. Tegan's hips are moving now against Sara's hand as her breaths get quicker and maybe I moan too a little bit as Tegan's moans get a little higher, a little faster, and finally, with a trembling cry that I still hear when I'm alone at night, she comes, squeezing Sara to her, tugging at the shoulder of Sara's shirt as though she were sixteen and there was a tiger's face on it. "_Oh. . . God. . . oh," _she moans, gasping against Sara's shoulder, and the heat radiates off of both of them, their pink damp faces, their heavy breaths. I feel their warmth on my face. I can even smell them. . .

Tegan is still breathing fast and hard when Sara slowly withdraws her hand from Tegan's pants, kisses her breathless lips and, to my complete shock, looks down at me for a moment, considering, and then, shifting down so that she is lying next to Tegan, Sara reaches over and takes hold of my arm, the wetness on her fingers still warm, pulling me forward.

"Come on," she murmurs to me, and I'd forgotten they could see me there, watching, and I've never seen that look in Sara's eyes but I've seen it in Tegan's, and Tegan looks at me too and I follow the pull from Sara's tugging at me and suddenly I'm on top of Tegan. Her heavy breaths pulse below me, against my belly, her breasts against mine. It gives me a jolt, this feeling of her against me when I never expected it to happen again. She looks at me and whispers, "_Please kiss me," _and Sara is right there, right next to her, her eyes on me and I want to kiss her so badly, and so I do it, I press down against Tegan's hot body and her arms wrap around me as I kiss her again, for the first time in three months. The feelings I get from her arms around me, her body pressed against mine, her mouth, are feelings I'd been remembering since Vancouver and thought were forever past, and they all give me another jolt through my guts and my heart. Now her lips press back against mine and I can feel that she isn't finished because she presses her hips up against mine as well. I'm already so worked up that this motion makes me gasp and I remember the times in Vancouver when Tegan came beneath me and moments later, pulled at me urgently and said _more. . ._

This long, slow kiss is drowning me, her tongue against mine, her hand at the back of my neck now, pulling me into her. My head is spinning, disbelief swirling together with overwhelming arousal to the point that I'm not sure where the drugs end and the rest of it begins. I can't think, don't know what is next until Sara suddenly takes hold of my wrist, and, to my stunned disbelief, pushes my hand down into Tegan's pants. I quickly look at Tegan's face, looking for hesitation, for a sign. Her eyes meet mine, her pupils wide and dark, her face flushed, hot, her hair stuck to her damp forehead.

She's still breathing hard as my hand slides down and finds the state of her, hot and wet and everything swollen still after Sara's touch, and I press against her, sliding my fingers there, feeling her, her voice low in my ears, catching in her throat with each stroke of my hand. She has taken hold of my hips, insistently pulling me to her, so I shift my position, moving my body so that I am lying on top of her with my hips between her thighs, and my hand between us, pressing and rubbing against her as I slowly begin to push my hips against hers. She moans, grinding against me as, suddenly, Sara moves down to Tegan's ankles and starts pulling on the legs of her jeans. I lift up, and Tegan lifts too and after a moment of tugging and struggling, her jeans are off, so I quickly peel off her underwear, dark green boys' shorts, and return to my previous position between her thighs and this time she wraps her legs around me. I press against her, rhythmically, and after a few moments, when she whimpers into my mouth, I push two fingers inside of her. She gasps, moans, and Sara is lying next to us again, eyes on my hips as I press against Tegan, stroking with my fingers as her hips thrust against my hand, against my body. Sara watches, her face pink, her lips parted as I lower my face to Tegan's again and kiss her, slowly, deeply. Tegan's hands slide up my body, under my shirt, over my breasts, making me want her so badly that it's painful. When her moans start sounding urgent, I press harder, faster, and after a few moments, the inside of her is spasming around my fingers again, her head back.

_"Oh, fuck!" _she gasps, squeezing me with her legs, her arms, and the inside of her, all at once. She shudders beneath me, and I slow my movements down, kiss her neck, kiss her lips again, so close to coming myself, aching to feel what she's feeling as she shudders against me again. I know I'm as wet as she is and the fabric of our shirts between us is hot and damp. I look quickly at Sara, whose eyes are on Tegan's face in a way that I can't describe but I gently pull my fingers out and slide off of Tegan because Sara looks desperate.

_"Tegan. . . Tegan, please. . ." _Sara murmurs, pulling on Tegan's arm, pulling her forward. Tegan is still trying to catch her breath as struggles to push herself up, and she rolls halfway onto Sara as I watch them both struggle with Sara's zipper, their breathing laboured, and as soon as her zipper is down, Sara grabs Tegan's hand and thrusts it down the front of her pants. I see Tegan's hand moving under Sara's underwear, sliding against her, slowly. Too slowly, it seems, as Sara presses up against Tegan's hand, her face tense, flushed. She grasps Tegan's wrist, pulls it into her harder, over and over, as her eyes shut tight. I'm right there, seeing it, feeling it, the heat of it moving through me, and the throbbing between my legs is enough to make me consider doing something about it myself but I'm frozen, watching Tegan's hand sliding, stroking inside of Sara's pants as Sara's hands grasp at Tegan frantically, pulling at her hips, her ass. Tegan moves faster, rocking with her, her mouth on Sara's neck, her tongue tasting Sara's salty skin as they grind and breathe together. Tegan's hand doesn't cease its rhythmic stroking of Sara as she supports herself with one elbow and, with her other hand, slides Sara's t-shirt up her body, exposing more of Sara to me than I've seen yet. Sara is moaning now without restraint, her hips grinding in time to Tegan's hand, and Tegan's teeth pull at her bra. She pulls it down, her mouth finding Sara's exposed breast, her tongue sliding over one firm nipple, her lips closing over it. Sara's hands are in Tegan's hair in response to this, pulling her closer, then sliding around the back of her neck. I see Sara's chest rise and fall, her belly spasming as her breathing escalates along with the intensity of her voice. Tegan's hand slides faster and if Sara is as hot and wet as I am, my mind can imagine how that feels against Tegan's fingers.  
_"Ooooooh God," _Sara whimpers, a kind of anguish I've heard in her voice before. _"Oh. .."_

_"Come for me, Sara. . ." _Tegan murmurs, and then whispers, _"come for me. . ." _in a soft voice as Sara's face tenses and she holds her breath, her eyes shut tight and her head back and, as she comes, she grasps the pillow on either side of her head, pulling it forward around her face and shaking, the spasms rocking her body. She puts one forearm over her face as the contractions come again. She moans against her own sleeve, hiding her face, taking deep, quick breaths for several moments. _"Fuck," _she breathes at last, and Tegan gently pulls Sara's arm away from her face. Tegan kisses her lips, tastes her tongue as Sara breathes heavily into her mouth. A moment later, there are more low sounds from Sara's throat; she draws in a sharp breath, and squeezes Tegan in her arms. Tegan moans a little too as she kisses her. The effects of the cupcakes have intensified over the last few minutes, and they're at least partly to blame for the tingling all over my body. Partly. I'm dizzy as I watch them kiss, tenderly now that the pain of needing to come has passed, but it hasn't passed for me and watching them is the hottest thing I've ever experienced outside of having sex with Tegan. Between the nerves fluttering in my chest and my heartbeat thumping throughout my body, I'm so overwhelmed I really think I might black out. After a few more slow kisses, her hands moving gently over Tegan's face and through her hair, Sara looks over at me. They are both catching their breath, and so am I.

"Look at Jamie," Sara whispers, and Tegan does. Her eyes, a little puffy, rest on me warmly. "She's so high. . ." Sara says, with a tired, affectionate smile. Tegan looks at me with different eyes, still on top of Sara, her damp hair falling over one eye.

"Yeah," she says, breathy.

"She wants you too," Sara says, kissing Tegan and then, almost tenderly, pushing her to me.

And then Tegan slides off of Sara and on top of me, her face so close, and it's so sudden that I take a quick breath, my body responding with a jolt again to the feeling of her weight on top of me. I didn't think it was possible for me to get any wetter, but her pressing down onto me has proven that wrong.

"Do you want me to touch you?" she asks me in a low, husky voice that reminds me of her earliest songs. I nod breathlessly, unable to say anything, but she is already unzipping my pants. Sara is watching us closely again, heavy-lidded but still intense, and my face and everything else is burning as Tegan slides her damp hand down, slowly, inside my underwear where everything is already so hot and so swollen that I think I might come immediately.

"_Jesus," _Tegan whispers as her fingers find how wet I am after all of that, and I whimper before I can stop it. She kisses me while her fingers press and stroke and slide against me, and the need inside my body is so intense that every touch is almost painful but God I don't want her to stop. Sara is next to us, and I can only imagine she is watching, because my eyes close as Tegan's fingers slide all the way down, all the way back up, and down again, slowly, her palm pressing against me, hot and swollen and inflamed, every inch of me so sensitive to her touch. _"Do you want me inside?"_ she asks in a whisper, her face close to mine and I meet her eyes for a second before closing mine again with a nod, which is all I can manage because I can't remember ever wanting anything more and I don't know if I'll even last that long but her fingers move down and press inside of me at the same moment that her tongue slides into my mouth and presses against mine. I grip her, my fingers pressing into her waist, as she pushes her fingers into me again and again, stroking every aching place inside of me. It doesn't take long at all and her lips are on mine and then the wave starts and I feel it flood through me, up through my throat, through my limbs, and the inside of me clenches, tight, around her fingers, and the spasms shake me against Tegan's body. She is hot, her weight on top of me, her breath in my ear as I come, and I hear myself moan and I hear a soft, breathy laugh from her mouth next to my ear.

"_Oh fuck," _I think I say and the muscles in my belly spasm too as Tegan slows the movement of her fingers and lays there inside of me, still, as I breathe heavily against her. I finally open my eyes and see her watching me with the trace of a smile on her face, her eyes warm, and I swear they smile too. Her eyes still on mine, she gently slides her fingers out of me, and slips them out of my pants, slowly up my belly and under my shirt. They're still wet, but now with me instead of Sara. Or maybe both. Her hand comes to rest in the centre of my chest, reminding me, knowingly reminding me of our first time in Vancouver, and I shiver, despite the heat all through me, as she kisses me again, her mouth warm and soft.

_"Holy shit,"_ she says with a soft laugh, and I hold her face between both of my hands, kissing her again while I can.

"Oh man," Sara says, laying on her back on the bed, with a little laugh. "That was fucking hot." Tegan slides off of me and falls down between us. I'm still trembling a little as she lays one hand on my thigh and Sara turns towards her on the other side, putting one hand on Tegan's belly. "God, the room is. . . spinning."

"Yeah," Tegan says, taking a breath. My head feels so heavy I don't even want to try to lift it.

"Jamie, are you okay?" Sara asks with a laugh; we're all so high everything is surreal, even more surreal than this situation would have been already.

"Yeah, haha," I say, shy now despite the drugs, now that the urgency has passed. I close my eyes and feel the shifting, swirling of the bed. I don't know who passes out first but I guess it's me because the last thing I remember hearing is Sara's voice.

"_Happy birthday."_


	24. To Keep You Here

**Author's Note: If your brain is still intact after the last chapter, I'm bringing you another right away to thank you for your awesome feedback! ;) Please feel free to add any further thoughts you have on Chapter 7, they've been endlessly satisfying!**

**And I know this is an intensely personal question, so feel free to answer anonymously (or send me a note, I won't tell!), but I wondered how many of you haven't had sex before? Just really curious about who the audience is, and how that affects how you read what I write. **

**Chapter 8 - To Keep You Here**

The bus was still rumbling on towards Edinburgh when Jamie awoke, her head still swimming, her mouth tasting like a baby dragon had slept in it. The lights were all on in the back of the bus, but the world outside was still in darkness. It took a moment for the memories to flood back to her, and, while she'd felt this wave of disbelief before - in Tegan's bed in Vancouver - this was a whole new level of bewilderment. She opened her eyes and, turning her head slowly to the left, she saw Tegan, asleep, laying on her back. Sara lay with her head on Tegan's stomach, one arm around her waist. Tegan's jeans lay draped over the corner of the bed where Sara had tossed them. Tegan, Jamie saw, was still naked from the waist down, a sheet loosely pulled over her hips.

_Holy fuck. How many times in the last year have I woken up and thought. . . "holy fuck?" _Jamie rubbed her eyes with her fingers, opened them again and found that she was not hallucinating: she was in fact in their bed with both of them. Her mind played a slideshow of images for her, of Sara on top of Tegan, kissing her. . . of Sara thrusting Tegan's hand into her pants. . . of Sara pushing Tegan to Jamie . . her brain had lost its fogginess now that the tainted cupcakes had worn off, and with a clear mind, she struggled to believe that she had seen and done those things. She hardly recognized her life.  
As quietly as she could, Jamie slid off of the bed, stepping over Tegan's underwear on the floor where they had landed, and gingerly closing the bedroom door, casting one last confirming gaze at Tegan's bare stomach under Sara's messy hair. She crept to her own bunk, climbing into it and tightly closing the curtain.

She slipped into a restless sleep, and when she woke again, it was light outside and she heard voices and movement around the bus, smelled coffee. But she couldn't leave her bunk. She was frozen, her now-sober mind stunned at what had happened, and her mortification overwhelming her. She would stay in her bunk, she decided. She would stay in her bunk for the rest of the tour and then go back to DC and die of embarrassment, alone, in a small dark room. Surrounded by posters of the sisters she had been in bed with.

She lay in her bunk, motionless, still wearing her clothes from the night before. Another image struck her mind and she quickly zipped up her pants: _Do you want me to touch you? _Tegan had murmured, unzipping them, and all she could do was nod. The memory made her insides squirm all over again.  
She could hear them talking, a little, in the kitchen area, but it was just a murmur. She knew that Sara had a cup of coffee in front of her. Tegan might be having pineapple yogurt. Would they be awkward with each other, or with her, or would it be fine for them? Would they talk about it or pretend it had never happened? Then there was movement and Sara's voice came to her, still quiet but loud enough for her to hear.

"Are you going to check on Jamie?" Sara asked, her tone laced with a little nervous laughter. Jamie's stomach clenched, but there was a sliver of relief in hearing it. With how nervous Sara had been just to have Jamie witness her and Tegan kiss, Jamie felt a bit apprehensive about what Sara's reaction to _this_ would be. Perhaps Sara would kill her off. Were there one too many witnesses to the side of Sara that would initiate a threesome with her sister and invite a former fan to join? One too many witnesses to the side of Sara that fans would die to know about. . .

"Yeah. . . you shower first and I'll talk to her," Tegan said, and there were a couple of

quiet minutes and some rummaging around before she heard the shower start. And then Tegan was there.

"Hey. . ." she said, with a light rap on the wall. "Hey Jamie, can I come in?" Tegan's

voice had that same warmth and laughter that she'd heard in Vancouver that first morning. _Hey Jamie. . . _it said, reminding her, _look at me. . ._

"Uh, okay. . ." Jamie replied uncertainly, and Tegan pulled aside the curtain a little, up by Jamie's head, and gave her a little smile.

"You okay?" she asked. Jamie clutched her blankets closer to her body and blushed. _Predictable, _she thought to herself.

"Haha. . . um. . . yeah. . ." she struggled. She wanted to be okay; she wanted to shrug and smile and make a joke about it, but she couldn't think of a thing to say. Tegan's eyes were on her, so warm, smiling.

"Can I come in there with you?" she asked, and Jamie gave her a surprised look.

"Uh. . . sure," Jamie murmured in response, sliding over as Tegan crawled up into her bunk. Tegan stretched out next to her, leaning on one elbow.

"So," Tegan started with a grin. "Those were pretty good cupcakes, eh?" Tegan grinned, but her face reddened a little, nearly to match Jamie's.

"Haha. . . uh. . . baked goods will never be the same," she replied, recalling the pineapple yogurt as Tegan laughed.

"Yeah, exactly," Tegan agreed and, to Jamie's surprise, lay a hand on Jamie's stomach, rubbing it a little. "But, um. . . are you okay? I mean, you're not. . . like. . . you don't feel. . . bad?" Tegan asked, and Jamie shook her head as their eyes met.

"Bad? No. It's. . . um. . . haha, well, it's. . . no. Not bad. I mean, it was. . ."

"Hot?" Tegan suggested, biting her lower lip and raising her eyebrows.

"Well, uh. . . yeah," Jamie agreed, and hoped that was all that needed to be said. Tegan nodded.

"Weird but hot?" Tegan added, questioning. Jamie laughed, a little nervously.

"Yes, weird, hot and. . . um. . . how's Sara?" Jamie asked, and Tegan shrugged very slightly.

"Sara probably won't say anything about it. She's pretty horrified. So I wanted to make sure you were okay." Jamie managed to maintain eye contact with Tegan.

"Yeah. I'm. . . um. . . I'm a little. . . it's weird but I'm okay. What about you?" Tegan's eyes were on hers, and she looked thoughtful for a few seconds and then, instead of a verbal response, she leaned in close and kissed Jamie's lips, softly, with a hand on her cheek. She looked Jamie in the eye for another moment, and then kissed her again. The shower stopped, drawing them up and out of the moment.

"Are you going to come out of your bunk now?" Tegan asked, and Jamie shook her head with a smile.

"Actually I was thinking I might spend the rest of my life in this bunk. . ." she said. Tegan grinned.

"I'll drop off some yogurt from time to time."

"That would be nice, thanks," Jamie said, smiling. Tegan smiled too and crawled back out of her bunk.

_"HOW DID YOU LIKE THE BROWNIES!?" _The question came almost immediately after the first song in Edinburgh. Jamie felt a moment of disbelief that the person who made the cupcakes was in Glasgow and now Edinburgh, but then she recalled her own relentless following of them from city to city and felt a bit silly.

"The brownies. . . you mean the cupcakes?" Sara responded, handing her acoustic to their guitar tech, Al, and taking her Gretsch back. "Tegan, how would you describe the cupcakes?" she asked wryly.

"Maybe first, we should say that one of Shaun's friends, in Glasgow, made us some cupcakes for our birthday. . ." There were boisterous cheers, as people shouted happy birthday. "Oh, thank you, yeah, Sara and I had a birthday. . . twenty-eight years ago. . ."

"I appreciate all the, all the like, enthusiasm for that, for the fact that we were born," Sara put in wryly. "I mean, it's not such a big accomplishment. Everyone's done it. . ." Jamie laughed as she focused her camera on Sara, leaning back against the barrier. The cheers continued.

"Yeah, it's true. I mean, it's our mom who pushed two human beings out of her vajayjay," Tegan added to increased mirth.

"Very true. You should be hooting and hollering for her, not for us," Sara agreed. "Although, I mean, we _were _pretty small, so. . ." Tegan looked over at her and laughed.

"Yeah we were _small _but still, bigger than anything you want coming out of, or going into, your v-hole-" There were intense screams at Tegan's choice of words, and Jamie captured Tegan's quick smirk at her with her borrowed camera.

"True. But why are we talking about vaginas? We're supposed to be talking about cupcakes," Sara reminded Tegan, and by then the laughter and the hoots were starting to get ridiculous. Jamie stifled her own laughter, and shivered a little when Sara gave her a wry look as well.

"Right. Cupcakes. How were the cupcakes. . ." Tegan thought about it. "They were. . . chocolatey? Can we even tell this story? Like-"

"_SPACE CAKES!" _someone shouted from the crowd, and the girls both laughed.

"Yeah. Okay. Well, I hope there are no police in the audience or like, Shaun's friend is going to get arrested. If shit goes down, the exits are there and there," Sara laughed, pointing to the sides of the club.

"Right. The cupcakes were. . . we didn't realize it until after we'd had like, three of them, but they were. . . special cupcakes," Tegan explained, to much hilarity. "So, Sara had them first and Jamie and I were chatting with her and she started acting so fucking weird, like, we thought she was drunk-" Someone shouted _JamieEEEEE! _from the crowd, and Tegan looked down at her, smiling. "Yeah and so by then, Jamie and I had both eaten a bunch of cupcakes so it was too late, but I sniffed the container with the cupcakes in it and was like, oh fuck. . .'

"Yeah, and especially because Jamie, like. . . Jamie didn't like, totally misspend her youth like we did," Sara went on, as Tegan laughed, agreeing.

"Totally. She was like, Jamie's the same age as us so I like to imagine it like, happening at the same time-"

"Like a split screen? Like in the movies?" Sara helped, and Tegan agreed.

"Exactly. Like, one side of the screen we see Jamie, in class, getting a test back from her teacher with like, 'A plus plus plus infinity' on it while on the other side, there's like, me and Sara and Jeremy out behind the gym smoking weed," Tegan said, laughing at the image along with the band, and the crowd, and Jamie at her feet.

"Totally. And then the next scene, there's Jamie, like, on stage making a speech at her graduation while we're like in someone's dark, shitty basement, taking hits from a bong-" The crowd's excitement intensified as Sara took that moment to imitate Cypress Hill.

"_We're gonna get hiiiiiigh, soooo hiiiigh," _she sang, and Tegan shook her head.

"Jamie, did you make a speech at your graduation?" Sara asked from stage right, and Jamie nodded.

"Sure she did, of course she did," Tegan said. "She's smarter than us. Jamie, did you play sports in school? Were you like, on sports teams and in student government and like. . ." Jamie laughed, blushing, nodding.

"What kind of sport? What did you play?" Tegan asked. "Something gay I hope."

"What? What sport is gay?" Sara asked.

"Well, like. . . field hockey?"

"Field hockey isn't gay. Field hockey is for girls," Sara said.

"What's the difference?"

"Soccer is gay," Sara went on, and Tegan looked incredulous.

"What? What's gay about soccer?"

"Have you _watched _women's soccer?" Sara asked, and Tegan looked at Jamie questioningly. Laughing, she mouthed the word _soccer _and Tegan laughed, her head back.

"Okay so like, on one side of the screen, Jamie like, kicks the, like, no, hits the ball with her head and it goes in the net and she does a forward flip and lands on her feet and all of her teammates jump on top of her-"

"Yeah, and then on the other side of the screen, we're like, at a beach and Tegan tries to jump over a bonfire because she's so wasted and she catches her huge, giant pants on fire." Jamie swept the camera across the band; Johnny is laughing so hard that he's gasping for breath. Shaun smirked, shaking his head and looking over at Ted, who grinned.

"Oh my God. We are not condoning this," Tegan said, back-pedaling. "Like, we didn't know there was weed in them until we'd already eaten them and we weren't trying to, like, fuck up Jamie's straight-edge thing, like-"

"Jamie, are you mad? Are you, like, mad, like do you you hate us because we took your brain's virginity?" Sara asked, with a grin cheeky enough to be Tegan's, except that it was partly covered by her hand, as she bit at her thumb nail. Jamie grinned, shook her head.

"No, it's worse than that. It was totally like, non-consensual so like, we _raped _her brain," Tegan said.

"Too far. Too far."

"No, it's okay. She's not mad. She's happy. It was a bonding experience," Tegan said, and Jamie felt a quiver in her belly at the memory of the bonding that had gone on the night before.

"Jamie, do you feel closer to us now?" Sara asked, and Jamie's disbelief over being asked that by Sara almost derailed her. She laughed, trying to keep her camera steady as she nodded.

"See? It's all fine. We're all friends. It's an experience," Tegan said.

"Totally. So this next one's for Jamie?"

"Yep. And our friend the baker," Tegan said, and Sara laughed.

"Totally. Happy birthday, by the way," Sara said to Tegan, and Jamie felt another shiver in her guts as she remembered hearing those words the night before. Tegan shook her head, laughed.

"Yeah, you too. Okay. Let's go back to the music part of the show."

"Good idea."

"Jamie, this one's for you."  
"And the baker."


	25. To Evaluate

**Author's Note: Happy New Year, guys! Thank you all for answering my intensely personal question! It was so interesting to hear back from you all and to talk to you about it, and some of you have some fucking sweet stories. ;) I asked because I wondered what reading the sexy times was like for the readers and how you all perceived them, and how that changes based on your experience. For example, I'd seen a couple stories where one character licks off her fingers after the other one comes on them, and I was like, "NO ONE does that! Do YOU do that?! Who does that?!" Haha so I don't know, do any of YOU do that? Anyway I try to make our sexy scenes as realistic as possible – as realistic as having sex with either of them would be, anyway. ;)**

**So, question of the week: If you've had sex before, how old were you when you first did it? Any regrets? If you haven't had sex, what do you think is a good age for your first time? (And seriously, don't feel bad for not being there yet…of everyone I know, the older that kids are when they first do it, the better the experience is… and who doesn't want that to be a good experience?!) Enjoy!**

**Chapter 9 - To Evaluate**

It's the next day and we're at Edinburgh Castle, the three of us. The boys are in the castle somewhere too, but I've lost track of them and I'm distracted anyway. Jamie is with us, as she usually is these days. It's a funny thing for me to think about, wanting someone there with me and Tegan, as a kind of buffer. It's an insane idea when you think of it, needing a third person there when the two of us were conceived alone together and grew alone together and have been alone together all of our lives. Now things are different and this shy, quiet girl is with us like a life raft. Sometimes I'm so grateful for her, for her presence, for what she does for Tegan, for what she does for me, for us, and then other times I resent her for being there all the fucking time and hate her for being allowed to have things I will never be allowed to have. And then I resent the fact that I feel like I _need_ someone there between me and Tegan at all, and I just can't make up my fucking mind.

I watch them gazing at the Stone of Destiny together as I hang back, needing to think, wanting to observe. It fascinates me, watching them together. There is a kind of easy familiarity between them and the intimacy I see there gives me a pang of jealousy and I have to remind myself not to be bitter about it, because there is closeness and intimacy between people and then there is like the completely fucking inexorable pull of gravity and that is what Tegan and I have. Tegan and I orbit each other, and sometimes the orbit is tight and close and sometimes things knock us off course and the orbit is wider but that gravity is always there. And so I remind myself of that and I feel better when I see them leaning over the stone, saying something to each other, smiling. Tegan says something I can't hear and Jamie gives her a sardonic look; Tegan laughs. She's said something cheeky, no doubt, and she likes Jamie's reaction. For the millionth time, I think of the other night when we were so high from those cupcakes. It's been a couple of days and it is still too much for me to make eye contact with Jamie for more than a second or two and I'm relieved that she has the good sense to feel the same way. I still absolutely cannot believe that I let all of that happen, that I _made_ that happen, and though I think I'm doing a good job of hiding my complete mortification, sometimes it slips out. I mean, it's usually my job to be responsible, reserved, measured... Tegan is the one that acts on her crazy impulses and feelings, not me. I don't know what got into me that made me think that doing _any_ of that was okay, even if I _was _more stoned than I've been in a good five years, at least. Now every time I see Jamie I cringe at the thought of what she saw us do, of what she saw _me_ do, and I wish to God I was safe and hiding behind my locked doors in my bedroom in Montreal where there is no temptation and no witnesses to all of the twisted things I want.

But when I'm alone I recall that night and it's a different thing altogether. She was there with us and she was okay. She wasn't shocked or disgusted; she didn't run off or throw up or even look away; she stayed. She stayed and I could see that watching me and Tegan together turned her on, and being watched by her turned both of us on and seeing her and Tegan touch each other was something new and I could never have predicted how it would make me feel but the surprise was that when Jamie kissed Tegan while her fingers slipped down into Tegan's pants, I wanted them both. I wanted to touch them both, I wanted to get in between them and I wanted to feel Tegan the way she felt for Jamie, and I wanted to feel Jamie in the way that Tegan felt her, because Tegan is a different person for her than she is for me. And seeing and knowing the way they are with each other is a new side of Tegan that I need to know, and I wonder what other parts of Tegan I have missed over the years, that I still don't know somehow. Jamie is tender with Tegan in a way that squeezes my heart and even now, as I follow them through the corridors, stopping to peer at displays of regimental garb, I can't help thinking again that if Tegan could just be with Jamie, maybe she could have a happy, normal life and not be trapped between this fucking gut-shredding need and the soul-destroying guilt that comes with it. She could just be with a girl who is so obviously so fucking in love with her that it makes me kind of want to cry for her, for how much I can tell she loves Tegan and for how restrained she manages to be most of the time. Well, all of the time except for when we inadvertently drug her and drag her to bed with us. Because there's nothing missing there, there's no obstacle. They're attracted to each other; they make each other laugh; they have good sex; they have a sweet, affectionate relationship. And when Jamie touched Tegan that night, I could see no inner conflict, no self-loathing, because there is nothing wrong with her touching Tegan and when she did it, when her fingers touched Tegan right after mine had, she looked at Tegan's face and it was like all she wanted was to be close to Tegan and to make Tegan feel her and just watch her in that moment and feel her body and that's what happened and there was nothing wrong with it, nothing to be ashamed of. And I was jealous of that because I want the same things but having them comes with those dark feelings and I can't separate them.

And I can see that Tegan loves her, I can see it. But is it the same kind of love that Jamie feels for her? Because I can see what that is, that love that Jamie feels, I can see it all over her and it's heart-rending. Is it the same? At the same time I ask myself that, I know it can't be, because as fucked up as it is, too much of Tegan is taken up by me. She isn't free. I've just, like, colonized her in the same way that she has colonized me and it's beyond anything we can do anything about. And the next obvious thing to ask is, well, what if I just got out of the way and just fucked off and let them be together? If I just stayed away, could Tegan just be with Jamie and be happy? If we were normal, the answer would be yes but we are not fucking normal. We are in this sick fucking mess together and if you don't know what it's like to need something the way we need each other then you're fucking lucky because you have a choice and we never did. And the reason why it's okay for me to say that Tegan would die without me is because I would fucking die without her and we're the same.

And then we're out into the light again and it's a relief, as we circle around that huge cannon at the top of the castle. Tegan sees that I'm lagging behind, and gives me a questioning look and all I need to do is give her the right look in return and I get a half smile and she's fine, she knows I'm okay and they continue their chat. Jamie has been awkwardly avoiding my gaze since the other night and I don't blame her. I didn't touch her and she didn't touch me but now I've seen what her face looks like when she comes, and she's seen me, and that's something I don't even like Tegan to see, and we've seen each other touch Tegan and kiss her, and it's too much for me just now. We were fully clothed but what we saw is way more than seeing each other naked. I saw Tegan squeeze Jamie's hips with her thighs, Jamie's body pressed down into Tegan's, her hand moving under Tegan's jeans, while Tegan pushed up against Jamie's body and moaned into her mouth. They kissed each other breathlessly, intensely, and seeing Jamie kiss Tegan like that made me understand her. And when I see Jamie run her fingers lightly over the barrel of that cannon like I saw her run them over Tegan's skin, it occurs to me that she and I share a weird, unspoken connection and that is knowing Tegan, loving her that deeply, and yet somehow not quite being able to have her. Not only that, but she is the only person who knows about our fucked up situation and she's the only one I can start to almost relax in front of. I don't know if I'll be able to get used to touching Tegan in front of her, even just innocently, but with those cupcakes in my bloodstream, that constriction in my throat, that panic, that twisting feeling in my stomach was gone and I just wanted Tegan and it didn't matter that Jamie was watching. In fact, her eyes made it all seem okay for a moment. I almost laugh when I think that if we could have cupcakes and Jamie in bed with us all the time, we would never have to wake up from that delirium, and we could just live and we wouldn't have to be insane.

The other thing I think of when I see Jamie and Tegan together is Emy. I've been consumed by this madness with Tegan for so long now that I've almost forgotten what it was like to be with someone, to touch someone and be touched and to not feel afraid, or guilty, or ashamed. The last time I felt like that was with Emy, and it was good and comfortable and safe and she loved me, and I loved her as much as I could. If I felt a pang of guilt when I was with her it was a much different kind, one brought on by the fact that I knew she couldn't have all of my heart the way that I had all of hers, even if I was still in too much denial to really know why. And all of this fucked up insanity has just shown me that I'm not enough for her and I never was. So I guess she tried as hard as she could for as long as she could but she just needed more than I have and more than I am and I failed. But now it seems inevitable that I would, and I'm sorry for Emy and for everything she put into making our relationship work when it was hopeless from the start because she was unlucky enough to fall in love with a sick weirdo like me. She deserved better all along and I hope she gets it someday.

At the Prisons of War exhibition, it all hits me and almost knocks me down. _Prisons._ Jamie says something about the torture and execution of witches and it's morbid and funny and Tegan laughs and gives her real smile, not the gummy one she does for photos, the real smile she has that is so different from mine and my heart is a lemon and all the juice is being squeezed out of it. I can't breathe for a second and the weight of that feeling almost smothers me because it doesn't make sense that when she does that thing with her labret piercing, all at once I want to rip it out of her face, and I feel angry because she provokes me, she pushes buttons in me that other people would never be able to find, that they don't even know exist, and at the same time she's mine, she's just _mine _and she literally makes me forget to breathe sometimes which is just fucked up, because she's my fucking sister, for fuck's sake. And so I want to strangle her, I want to smother her with my body, I want to wrap my limbs around her and drown her with me, I want to rip out my own hair, I want to pound my fists against her chest, I want to hold her and touch her and smell her and taste her and tear her clothes off and say _I need you need you need you need you, you're mine_! _Mine! _That word, _love, _was invented to describe emotions that are allowed to exist and so it doesn't begin to describe this fucking prison that we're in.

Then, they're clowning around a little; Tegan tries to trip Jamie up, stumbling in front of her, and Jamie clutches the shoulder of Tegan's shirt, pushing and pulling her at the same time and in a flash I am sixteen again, in our room down in the basement. Tegan had just played that song for me and it was a painful song and I was feeling the ache of it, and I looked at her face as she sat there, biting her lip and looking at the floor and fiddling with her tuning pegs. A strand of hair was stuck to her lip and without thinking I just reached out a hand and brushed the hair away from her mouth, my fingers grazing her lips for the first time that I can remember, so soft, and then my stomach rolled over a little because of the way that made me feel. My heart was pounding and her face was red and her eyes reflected my fear but until that moment I had no idea what it meant to be compelled to do something. And it was like my body was being remotely operated because I saw myself lean in close to her and when my lips pressed against her lips I felt a wave of heat from my face, down through my throat and all the way down inside my size forty jeans. I kissed her and she kissed me back, but then her lips trembled a little, and that made me remember who I was and who she was and I was engulfed in panic. I jumped back off the bed, and took a step back, frozen, and her eyes reflected that too but she set the guitar down, got up, and took a step towards me. _Sara, _she said, her voice trembling too and she took another step towards me and reached her hand out and I took another step back! Because she'd sung that fucking song and it did something to my brain and I'd kissed her like I'd lost my mind! So she stepped towards me and her hand was reaching out for me, soft, gentle, her face all flushed and her eyes all scared like my stomach felt and I backed into the wall and then I couldn't back up any further. So she stepped closer again, and since I couldn't step back, I put my hand out in front of me, maybe to block her? I don't know.

She said my name again and shook her head and I know why she shook her head because who could possibly understand what was happening to us? I could feel a tightness in my chest and it was making me breathe quickly, kind of panicky, and then there was this thickness in my throat and I thought I might fucking cry because I'd kissed her and she was my _sister_ and she was coming towards me and I wanted her to come towards me but if she kept coming I would have to push her away and I didn't want to push her away but what the fuck else could I do? Her eyes were a bit shiny too, maybe because she saw mine. And when she took another step and then we were only a foot apart, I put my hand on her chest to stop her from coming any closer, but she took another quarter-step closer, pushing against my blocking hand and then somehow my fist closed and clenched her t-shirt because I couldn't push her away, but I couldn't let myself pull her closer, either. Another quarter step and I feel her breasts press against mine and it's like something deep inside me had been liquified. Was she going to come any closer? She couldn't! Don't come any closer! I almost wanted to cry it out. Now her face was so close and if I looked at her eyes and felt my own guts, I knew that we were both lost. And then, with her face right there, the desire to kiss her again was smothering me, but she's the one who leaned in closer and I had another moment of panic where I raised my hands quickly and placed my hands on both of her cheeks and I held her face and stopped it there. She took a breath too, and you know what? She was relieved! She was relieved because I'd stopped her, and then while my hands were on her face, her hands were on my wrists and just for a second I thought we'd escaped. I was relieved too; I lay my forehead against hers and closed my eyes and took a deep breath and so did she. It felt almost safe to rest like that for a moment, her hands hotly clutching my wrists. It was almost safe the way it had felt safe when we were kids and we curled up against each other in that huge waterbed. Did she want to hold my hands against her face? Did she want to pull them away? Did she even know? I didn't. She said something in a tiny murmur, _I. . . Sara. . . do it again. . . _and I didn't say anything because my heart was pounding in my throat and I was struggling to breathe. So she was the one who moved, shifted her head and moved closer and then, suddenly, her lips were on mine again and we were lost. You don't really know what another person's lips will feel like when you've never kissed anyone before, and I felt light-headed because of that and because she was _Tegan_. I kissed her back then with the same intensity that she kissed me; the dam had burst, and we were two little kids standing on the side of the creek, watching the dam wash away on the current and wondering how such a flimsy wall of sticks and dirt had managed to hold for sixteen years in the first place.

Then our arms were around each other and I thought we would suffocate each other. I could hardly breathe. My hands were in her hair; her hands were around my body, encircling me. I felt her tongue with my tongue and it shocked me, and we slid down the wall and fell to the floor next to the bed, and I needed to touch her so badly, though I couldn't explain why and I still can't. I don't know who was controlling my body because it couldn't have been me. I unzipped her pants and looked at her face and she was all red, her mouth open a little, breathing heavily like I was, there on the ugly green basement carpet. She watched my eyes and I watched hers as my hand, inexplicably, impossibly, slid down over the warm softness of her stomach and down, even lower, and into her underwear.

When my fingers touched that part of her that I'd never even imagined before, I found her all hot and wet down there and her eyes shut tight like I'd hurt her but she was still clutching at my shirt, that stupid tiger shirt, like I clutched at hers, and she pulled me forward and pressed her face against my chest and the moan I heard from her throat was muffled against my body and I felt its vibrations and something clenched inside of me too and my fingers only kind of knew what to do but they knew enough, I guess. They slid and circled against her there and I couldn't believe it, and she squeezed me and clutched at me and made sounds I could never before have imagined her making for me and actually I think I made some of those sounds too. My heart was pounding so hard that I thought I might black out. Her breathing got quicker and her voice sounded like her face had looked just before she pressed it into my chest. My fingers moved a little faster and then she was squeezing me, harder, squeezing the breath out of me and then her moan became a somehow painful muffled cry. We were both shaking. It was fast. I didn't know it was fast at the time because fast compared to what? But it was fast. But then some of the intensity ebbed away, and we were breathing hard, erratically, and the fear flooded back in to fill the space left by that intensity and then suddenly it all seemed sick and insane and I can't tell you how much I hated myself for what I'd just done. I pulled away from her; she let go of my shirt and fell back onto the carpet, and covered her face with her hand. I should have kissed her, held her. Now I hate that I didn't. I don't know but I thought she was almost ready to cry. She probably did. I got up, sorry, angry, just drenched in panic, and left her there, still shaking on the carpet. That tiger t-shirt disappeared and I never looked for it again but I knew what had happened to it.

And it's a second later and thank God we've passed out of that torture chamber and into the Great Hall. It's spacious and opulent and that oppressive feeling starts to dissipate and there is a strange moment: they are looking at a painting; Tegan says something about the painting and Jamie laughs; Tegan looks at me, bites her lip, and winks; I smile because she's so cheesy; Tegan moves on to the next painting and Jamie looks back, hesitates, raises her eyebrows. She's awkward, uncertain, but she's checking me, am I okay, are we okay, is this okay? I give her a smile, and she half-smiles back, with a quick nod, before looking away. And in that moment I want to be naked between them, in the back of the bus, no matter what that says about me.


	26. To Make a List

**Chapter 10 - To Make a List**

A bump on the road roused Tegan from her half-sleeping state; she opened her eyes where she lay on their huge bed, and saw Sara sitting next to her, her naked back turned to Tegan as she quietly searched the twisted sheets for something. The moonlight from the window struck her shoulders and painted her pale skin a silvery colour.

"What are you doing?" Tegan asked, her voice sleepy and thick. Sara turned her head, looked over her shoulder at Tegan.

"Just. . . my shirt. . . did you throw it, like, out the window or something?" Tegan chuckled. Sara wore only underwear. Tegan's nakedness was covered with a bedsheet.

"You don't need to put on a shirt," she said softly, one hand lightly tracing over Sara's spine. "You're. . ." Tegan started and then stopped herself. Sara looked back over her shoulder, stopping her search for her t-shirt momentarily at the sound of Tegan's incomplete thought. Tegan looked at her face, shrugged, smiled a little. She'd realized just in time that she couldn't really say what she wanted to say, and the whole insane situation struck her again.

"I'm what?" Sara asked, and Tegan shook her head, smiled shyly.

"Never mind," she whispered, as Sara abandoned the search and turned around, stretching out and laying her body over Tegan's.

"No. . . tell me what you were thinking," Sara pressed her, gently, while tugging the bed sheet out from between them and then pulling it over her own back so that they lay together, skin to skin. Tegan put her arms around Sara, still with her shy grin, still unable to say it. She shook her head. "Tegan. . . a few minutes ago, your fingers were. . . and now you can't say. . .?" Sara gave her a gently wry smile. Tegan reached up and touched Sara's cheek, just above her.

"I want to kiss you," Tegan said softly.

"Then do it," Sara said, her smile not without the pang she always felt when she allowed herself to think about what she wanted. Tegan's eyes reflected that pang too, but she pulled Sara's face closer with gentle pressure on the back of her neck, and they kissed softly for a long moment. After, Sara moved her face back just a little, and they looked at each other.

"I want to kiss you. . . everywhere," Tegan whispered, warmly, her mouth an inch from Sara's. Sara took a breath, hesitated.

"You. . . already have," she breathed, and Tegan gave her a half-smile, and shook her head.

"Not everywhere. . ." Tegan corrected her with a murmur. With her arms around Sara, Tegan rolled onto her side so that they lay face to face, close together. Sara, suddenly shy, lost eye contact and instead looked at Tegan's lips, but couldn't do that either so she looked at Tegan's hand, on the bed between them, at the tree tattoo. Tegan was instantly reminded of Jamie's eyes locking onto that tree tattoo when she was too shy to meet Tegan's eyes. "I want to. . . I want. . . all of you," Tegan whispered at last, and Sara bit her lip, her fingertips tracing over the branches of Tegan's tree.

"I. . . it's not. . . I don't. . ." Sara started uncertainly, her hand still on Tegan's arm as Tegan gently tucked Sara's bangs behind her ear, waiting patiently.

"You're not. . ." Tegan started, her dark eyes on Sara's twin dark eyes, as her fingertips delicately traced over Sara's eyebrow, down her cheek. "You don't want. . ." Tegan tried to say again, but Sara shook her head.

"I do," she said. "I want. . . um. . . but I can't. . . I don't know. . . maybe not. . . yet." Tegan smiled.

"That's okay," she said.

"But. . . don't be, like. . . sometimes. . . when I'm with you I just. . . like I want. . . I just want you, um. . ." Sara's words failed her. "I mean, I'm. . ." Sara sighed, shook her head against the pillow. "You're ready for things that I'm not ready for." Tegan nodded. "You're braver than me." Those words were a whisper, and Sara's lower lip quivered a little when she spoke them, so she bit it again.

"No," Tegan said. "You just think too much." Tegan broke Sara's sad smile with a kiss that started tender and ended slow and deep, Sara's hands in Tegan's hair. They kissed again and, like always, stopped with warm, breathless reluctance.

"I don't know how to stop doing that," Sara said. "Over-thinking every fucking thing."

"I know," Tegan said.

"How do you do it?" Sara asked, without a hint of irony. Tegan shrugged a little, her eyes on Sara's fingers gently stroking those green branches again.

"I think. . . well, I do what. . . I feel and then think about it later, haha," Tegan said with a self-deprecating laugh. Sara snorted a little.

"I envy that, sometimes. It means you. . . experience things, while I like, sit in dark rooms and think about them." Tegan gave a little sad chuckle. Sara lay her hand on top of Tegan's, on the bed between them, and looked at their fingers together.

"Your hand looks just like mine," Sara mused softly and Tegan smiled.

"Yeah," Tegan said. Sara looked up to Tegan's face, from her eyes to her lips.

"But you don't. . . look like me," Sara said as though she'd just realized it. She lay her hand softly on Tegan's cheek.

"No," Tegan agreed, smiling. Sara drew her thumb across Tegan's lips, causing Tegan to draw a deep breath.

"You're. . . so. . ." Sara shook her head, at a loss.

"So are you," Tegan said, pulling her closer. She pressed her lips softly against Sara's, for a moment. "That's what I wanted to say before."

"I know," Sara said, and they kissed again.


	27. A List to Convince You

**Author's Note: I just realized that the story thus far has a higher wordcount than the first Harry Potter book. Holy shit! I am so irrationally excited about that… thanks for sticking with me this whole time! **

**Chapter 11 - A List to Convince You**

The night of the Newcastle show, Jamie came across Tegan in an empty room backstage. The boys were setting up, and Sara was asleep on a sofa in another room; it was a while to go before sound check. She found Tegan sitting on the floor with her laptop to one side, an acoustic guitar in her lap. As she walked in, Jamie heard her softly run through a chord progression, singing in a very soft voice, and then stop to type something on her laptop. She saw Jamie, and looked unaccountably embarrassed.

"Oh, hey," Tegan said with a shy grin. "Busted." Jamie crouched down next to her and looked at the screen.

"Yeah, that's for sure. I mean, what do you think you are? A songwriter?" Jamie said wryly, to Tegan's sheepish laugh.

"Haha, yeah, well. . . we usually don't like to get caught actually writing a song. We prefer to claim that the songs come to us from God, already written." Jamie laughed.

"Well, I won't tell anyone," she said with a grin.

"Good, because this one is, um. . . partly about you, and like. . . when we were in Vancouver. And stuff." Tegan was blushing, but she smiled all the same. Jamie gave her a surprised look.

"Me?" Tegan nodded, and scrolled up to the top of the page.

"You, and some of it is about Sara and. . . it's about those whole two weeks, mostly. And about like. . . how I think I behaved towards you, um. . . around that. . . before I knew that you felt. . . before we. . . uh. . . well, before . . . haha, holy fuck," she laughed, clicking something on her keyboard. "Why don't I just play this crappy recording for you and leave the room. Sound good? Okay," Tegan said shyly, laughing and getting up as the rough recording started playing on her laptop. She gave Jamie a quick wink and left her alone with the song.

Begging like

You might

Take order in your own hands

I stare

Seems like I don't care

Drop a chance in your hands then. . .

Jamie listened intently, feeling it, the lyrics loaded with meaning after Tegan's words. She laughed a little, feeling like she knew which lines were for her, which were for Sara, and which for Tegan herself. Many of the lines conjured images in her mind. . . of Tegan asking Jamie to touch her. . . of Sara standing with her bags in Tegan's doorway. . . of all of the ways that Tegan didn't even know the world had been mean to her. She was thinking then that the only cure for both her and Sara was Tegan herself, which was so much pressure on one person, so much for one person to be, when Tegan came back into the room.

"So?" Tegan asked nervously, sitting on the sofa with her guitar.

"It's good," Jamie said. "I like in the bridge where you-".

"The bridge of what?" Sara asked, her voice still thick with sleep, her eyes puffy. She shuffled over to the sofa and flopped heavily next to Tegan.

"I showed Jamie a new song," Tegan explained, smoothing Sara's hair down on the side. "Your hair is all standing up. . .".

"Can I hear it?" Sara asked, leaning her head against Tegan's shoulder and closing her eyes. "I'm so sleepy. Is the show over yet?"

"Yeah, we played without you. Nobody noticed," Tegan said. Sara chuckled. "Jamie sang backup. It was fine."

"Thanks Jamie," Sara mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "I was wanting to kind of phase myself out of the project anyway."

"Happy to help," Jamie said with a smile. "Want me to play the song? Apparently it's about. . .um," Jamie started, and Tegan grinned at Jamie and her tendency to let things slip.

"It's about both of you. . ." Tegan explained, shy again, turning her head and pressing her lips against Sara's forehead as Jamie clicked a couple of keys and the song started again. While the song played, Sara's head rested against Tegan's shoulder, and Tegan's head rested against Sara's, and Jamie sat on the floor in front of the computer, and they were all quiet. The two on the sofa closed their eyes, and it was only Jamie who saw when Johnny stopped in the doorway and gave them a surprised look.

"Well aren't you guys cosy?" Johnny commented, with a surprised smile at the girls, who immediately straightened up.

"Shit, I fell asleep," Tegan muttered, embarrassed, as Sara got up and went to the washroom without a word.

"We need you guys on stage in fifteen minutes," Johnny said, somewhat bewildered. Jamie gave him a nod and a smile and he was off again. Jamie looked over at Tegan, who was fiddling with her guitar again, her face a little pink.

"You know, there was nothing. . . unusual. . . about what you guys were doing. Except for maybe the way you reacted when he saw you," Jamie said softly, and Tegan shook her head, turned one of her tuning pegs again.

"We never used to. . . like. . . nobody is used to seeing us touch each other at all so. . ." Tegan said, getting up.

"But I don't think you want to, like. . . overcompensate too much. That will be suspicious too, you know?" Jamie suggested, thoughtfully. Tegan nodded, listening. "Like if you jerk away from each other all the time. . ."

"Yeah, you're right," Tegan said, pausing for a moment and thinking. "And. . . I don't know, she said suddenly, "I've been so distracted but thanks for the sweet present. Pineapples really will never be the same." She grinned.

"Well, I mean, a pillow shaped like a pineapple? How often do you see one of those. . ." Jamie mumbled, suddenly shy. She'd bought the pineapple pillow in Leicester Square and had wrapped it with a note, _For when I can't be there when you cry._

"Well," Tegan said, closing her laptop and meeting Jamie's look again. "It's really sweet. The note too. . ." They looked at each other for a moment, and then Tegan leaned in and hugged Jamie, who returned the hug tightly, and they lingered in each other's arms for a long moment. "But, I still hope you'll be there when I cry," Tegan said, softly, her lips near Jamie's ear. Jamie's chest fluttered a little at Tegan's warm breath on her ear, at the smell of her hair, the warmth of the embrace.

"I hope so, too," she said, as they slowly and reluctantly released each other. "I mean, I hope you don't cry at all but if you do. . . I hope I'm there." Tegan gave her a long, warm look, and a smile which was only slightly sad.

"Well," Tegan said at last. "Shall we?"

"Yeah," Jamie said.

She grabbed her camera and followed Tegan to the stage.

. . . . . . . . . .

"This next song," Tegan started, smoothing her hair off to the side and then grabbing, twisting something on her mic stand, "Sara wrote for me." Jamie needed to bite her tongue to keep her laughter out of the video; she could feel the craziness starting.

"Tegan," Sara started to protest, and Jamie panned across to Sara's disapproving gaze. The crowd howled their approval, while Sara shook her head. "No. It's not about her. None of them are about her. Just the fact that you would, like, that you thought of saying that is like. . . it makes me so sad for you."

"I mean, her earlier songs about me were more romantic than the newer ones, but still. . . I'll take it," Tegan went on, disregarding Sara's protest while the audience's mirth gained momentum.

"None of my songs are about you. Not the romantic ones, not the dark ones, not the sad ones, none of them," Sara clarified, and then suddenly stopped. "Oh, wait, there was one-" Sara's sentence dissolved in cheers from the audience, and she paused before moving on. "I wrote _one_ song about Tegan. It's called 'Tegan Didn't Go To School Today.'"

"That's the first song you wrote about me. It's about the day I skipped school to stay home with you-"

"No, you weirdo," Sara said over the din, as Tegan stooped to pick up a bra that had been flung on stage, and then hung it on the end of her keyboard stand while the crowd squealed their approval. "The song is about the fact that you didn't go to school one day because you were a fucking little punk and you were like, off being drunk and slutty with someone. A boy, probably." The cheers turned to hoots, and Tegan laughed.

"It's okay. I understand why you don't want to tell them. I mean, it's private. It's something special between us. It's nobody's business," Tegan said, her eyes stopping briefly, laughingly, on Jamie's lens before moving back to the crowd.

"Yeah. If that were, like, true, then I would wonder why you were telling the story to like, the dozens of people who are here at this show and will be watching this video later-"

"Yeah, good point. You guys can keep a secret, can't you?" Tegan asked the crowd, who shrieked their assent. "See? It's fine. It's between us."

"You're filthy. Look at them! Some of them believe you! They're like, 'Oh well they're both gay so that sounds reasonable,'" Sara said, giving Jamie a little start when she looked down at her and shook her head with a grin.

"Oh, don't make it into a _gay _thing," Tegan laughed. "You'd want me just as much if I was a dude. You're not a homosexual. You're a _Tegansexual. . ." _Jamie tried harder than ever to keep the camera steady as she made a mental note of this new level of inappropriateness in their stage banter.

"Tegan, holy shit, tomorrow there's going to be, like, we're going to see like, blogs about us and our mom is going to call us in tears because she's online obsessively reading every new thing about us and like-"

"Well, we can't keep it from her forever!" Tegan exclaimed, and Sara's look of disbelief sent Tegan into another peal of laughter.

"Sick. You're a sick sick weirdo and I share, like, one _hundred _percent of your DNA-"

"Yeah, so if I'm a sick weirdo, you're a sick weirdo," Tegan pointed out.

"This is like, a nature versus nurture kind of scenario-" Sara went on. "It's like, we have the same DNA but I guess I had like, a better place in the womb and got more prenatal like. . . whatever. . . nutrients or like-"

"Plus, you were sitting on my ear," Tegan helped, indicating the asymmetrical curve of her left ear.

"Right. I got more nutrients and you got a weirdly misshapen ear and like, a sick twisted mental illness," Sara said.

"Yeah. And you got the asthma," Tegan added, to which Sara laughed, and nodded.

"Right. You got a weird ear and like a perverse, psychotic like. . . mental problem, and I got a moderate case of asthma," Sara concluded as the crowd went into hysterics.

"_SIT ON MY EAR, SARA!" _someone shouted, and for a moment Jamie thought it might have been the same person who had shouted _DISAPPOINT ME TEGAN! _in one of the recent shows.

"Haha, sure. Get naked and cover yourself in like, placenta juice-"

"Believe me, after seven months, you'll be so over it. At first you'll be like, oh my God, Sara is sitting on my ear, I hope this never ends! But at the end of nine months you'll be like, get the fuck off of me right now," Tegan explained to the hysterical fan. "It's like on the bus, in our huge bed, and like Sara falls asleep on top of me and at first it's fine and after a couple of hours I'm like, fuck-"

"Come on. You can't even lie convincingly. You know that if any of that were true, you'd be like, Sara, lie on top of me forever! And I'd be the one who would be like, get the fuck off me, I can't sleep with your hot breath on my neck-"

"Totally," Tegan laughed, and Jamie could hardly hear their amplified voices over the manic shrieks of the crowd. "Yeah, that's probably true."

"And you should probably thank me for sitting on your ear, because otherwise we'd be like, _really_ identical. It's like, the only thing that makes you special," Sara taunted, as Tegan laughed and kicked at the pedals at her feet.

"Haha, totally. Thanks for sitting on my ear for seven months," Tegan said.

"It's my pleasure. And thanks for giving me the good spot in the womb," Sara said, with a laugh, "because it's really paid off."

"Oh, any time. It's the least I could do," Tegan said, and Sara snorted at her.

"Okay. Let's get back to the music portion of the evening," she said.

"Yeah. This next one is for me."


	28. Don't Run Away

**Author's Note: Readers! I was wondering: Are there any artists in the house?! I would LOVE to commission someone to illustrate some of the scenes/chapters in the story, but it's kind of hard to just approach T&S artists and ask if they'd be up for illustrating this kind of thing. ;) If you're interested, please please please drop me a note! I see all this in my head and would LOOOVE to see it in living color. ;) I now bring you the next chapter, appropriately titled:  
**

**Chapter 12 - Don't Run Away**

It had been a good show, following the ridiculously provocative stage banter, and it was the last show of the UK tour. They wouldn't need to be on the road until morning, so the girls and the band and crew headed to a noisy pub nearby for soggy British pub food and warm beer. Once inside, the girls got a booth while the boys took over the snooker table, and Jamie ran into Ted on the way back from the bathroom. He had a pint of warm, flat beer in one hand and something bright red in the other.

"Cranberry cocktail!" he said, smiling and handing the glass to Jamie. "As virginal as you like it."

"Thanks, Ted," she said appreciatively, accepting the glass as Ted took a glance over at the girls' booth.

"So, how's it going on the bus with the wonder twins?" Ted asked with a grin, and Jamie laughed at him.

"Uhhhh it's good," she said, suddenly not sure how or where to start. _It's good. We watch movies. They kiss. Sometimes we all get into bed together. . ._

"You don't sound so sure," Ted said, curious. "Is everything okay? I mean, for a couple of days there. . . did I detect some weirdness between you and Sara?" Jamie's heart jumped a little to hear that spoken aloud; she'd wondered it herself, how obvious it had been, but in the last couple of days, Sara had regained her ability to look Jamie in the eye, and, mercifully, they were able to speak more than a couple of mumbled words to each other again before blushing and looking at the ground.

"Well. . . no, we're. . . um. . ." Jamie stumbled, sipping the cranberry juice and avoiding his eyes.

"Jamie," Ted prodded. "Come on! You can tell me. Seriously." Jamie shook her head, as the sudden and unexpected opportunity to talk about it left her speechless.

"Uh. . . no, I mean, it's fine but. . . let's talk later, somewhere else. . ." Ted raised his eyebrows, his whole face illuminated with glee over the possibility of gossip. "God, you're such a girl," Jamie added.

"Okay. Later. But don't forget," he said, as Shaun waved him over from the snooker table. "Want to play snooker with us?" Jamie took a look over at the booth where Sara was speaking, her face intense, while Tegan listened earnestly.

"Sure," she said, joining the boys at the table. She and Ted played against Shaun and Johnny and lost three games in the amount of time it took the boys to drink two pints each. At the end of the third game, she looked over at the booth and Tegan smiled and gestured for her to come. Jamie wished Ted luck and joined the girls at their booth, sliding in next to Tegan.

"Ask Jamie," Sara said, as Jamie sat down. "I have to pee." Sara slid out of the booth, leaving Jamie sitting on the same side as Tegan. She sipped the cranberry juice, looking around the table. There were six empty glasses on the table.

"Ask me what?" she asked uncertainly.

"We were just talking about what to do on our day off in Paris. We have like, one single day to see the _whole _city," Tegan said, taking a sip of her drink.

"Yeah, one day should be enough," Jamie laughed.

"Totally. I mean, it's just, like, the _Moveable Feast _or whatever," she said.

"Exactly," Jamie said.

"Who said that again?"

"Hemingway, I think," Jamie said, and Tegan nodded approvingly, swirling the melting ice around in her glass. "What is that?" Jamie asked, suddenly not able to remember what they'd been talking about as she involuntarily recalled the sight of Sara, her mouth on Tegan's, her hand moving inside Tegan's pants. . .

"Oh, it's a mojito. Want to try it?" Tegan asked.

"I think no," Jamie said with a distasteful look.

"Here, smell it," Tegan said, handing Jamie the glass. Jamie took it, smelled it, made a more distasteful face, and handed it back.

"Ugh. It smells like toilet cleaner," she said, and Tegan laughed.

"No! It's refreshing and delicious." Jamie looked skeptical.

"I'll just have to take your word for that," she said. "Wow, how many drinks have you guys had?"

"Uhhh. . ." Tegan said, looking around at the table, "three each." Jamie looked at the empty glasses on the table and remembered the night that she lay beneath them on the bus and overheard them, their whispered words, their soft moans.

Sara came back to the table with three glasses; one was the same as her previous glass, one was another mojito for Tegan, and another looked like a glass of Coke with ice. Sara smiled at Jamie, and set the Coke glass in front of her.

"I got you a Coke," she said, sitting down.

"Just Coke?" Jamie laughed nervously.

"Mostly Coke. It's like, sixty percent Coke. And twenty percent ice," Sara said.

"And the other twenty?"

"Shit, you're good at math," Sara laughed.

"Sara, Jamie doesn't drink," Tegan pointed out, giving her twin a confused frown.

"I know. But I thought she might like to try it. . . tonight," Sara said, with a long look at Tegan.

"Um. . . the other twenty percent?" Jamie repeated.

"Rum," Sara said, "but you can hardly taste it. Have you tried it?"

"No, it smells like lighter fluid," Jamie said.

"It's better than it smells," Sara said, pausing for a moment. "Am I pressuring you? Do you feel pressured?" Jamie laughed.

"A little." Jamie saw Sara give Tegan another look, and the slight bewilderment on Tegan's face. Sara broke the eye contact and turned back to Jamie.

"Let's have a toast!" she said with a jovial tone.

"To what?" Tegan asked, raising her glass as Jamie did the same with her cranberry juice and not the rum and Coke.

"To baked goods!" Sara said, and Tegan made a soft groan and reddened a little as they clinked their glasses together. Jamie snorted and blushed too as she took a drink with them, recalling, again involuntarily, the sight of Sara urgently grasping Tegan's hand and roughly pulling it down the front of her own pants.

"Damn, whoever baked those should open their own bakery," Tegan said with an anxious laugh. Jamie smirked and shook her head, but wondered if they would notice if she were to crawl under the table.

"If they did, I would be a regular customer," Sara laughed, sipping the icy whisky.

"You totally would," Tegan said. _Still trying to lighten the awkward conversation, _Jamie thought. "They'd be like, 'Oh, hi again Sara. The usual?'"  
"Yeah and I'd be like, 'Sure thing, Guido. I've got some friends coming over. . .'"

"Haha, Guido?" Tegan snorted. Jamie was laughing but was having a hard time finding a way into the conversation. She sipped her virginal drink and said nothing.

"Yeah, Guido. . . Lenny. . . I don't know. He knows me and he knows my order," Sara said.

"He knows because every time you have friends over, you order a dozen cupcakes," Tegan laughed. "Like, the way other people order like a fruit and cracker and cheese tray, you get your party pack of pot brownies." Sara nodded her approval.

"Fucking right. I mean, I've been at parties with cheese trays and there was like. . . I don't know. . . people played charades. . . maybe there was karaoke. . ." Tegan watched Sara intently.

"Everyone remained clothed," Tegan added tentatively.

"Yeah, like, nobody got their pants pulled off. . ." Sara trailed off, taking another swallow of whisky. Jamie quietly watched the ice melt in the rum and Coke that had been brought for her. "Nope," Sara continued, "all pants remained on. Nobody invited a third party to join them in bed. . ."  
Jamie's heart started racing. _Did she really just say that out loud?_ She looked quickly at Tegan, whose pink face reflected her embarrassment. Tegan picked at the coaster under her glass, but, unlike Jamie, managed to reply.

"No fun. Cheese and crackers are so last year."

"Yeah, this year it's all about the pot brownie party tray."

"I think it could really catch on," Tegan said.

"I think so," Sara agreed. I mean, it provides something that cheese and crackers just don't."

"What's that?" Tegan asked. _ An excuse, _Jamie thought.

"An escape," Sara said. "An escape from like. . . the parameters of. . . convention."

"An escape from. . . the rules?" Tegan added, getting unsteadily to her feet, sliding past Jamie, and gesturing towards the bathroom. Jamie watched her go, her stomach fluttering a little, apprehensive to be left alone with Sara while she was on this tangent.

"From sanity?" Jamie suggested, for the first time, stirring her cranberry juice.

"Exactly," Sara said, studying her whisky glass and not looking at Jamie. "People need that sometimes. I mean, some people are able to just let go and they don't need help. But some people have inhibitions. . . reserve. . . some people need help. There are things that maybe people want to do but couldn't do if they didn't have something to tear away those boundaries." There was a kind of cool reserve in the way Sara delivered all of this, as though she were reading it from someone's dissertation. Jamie glanced quickly at Sara, uncertainly, but involuntarily warming. Sara went on. "And people might not even, like. . . I mean, they might even want to do something but something, like, gets in their way. They get in their own way," she concluded deliberately, spinning her almost-empty fourth glass on the table thoughtfully. Jamie watched the glass as Sara continued. "Like right now, for example, it's kind of. . . hard. . . to have this conversation. You're shy and sober and I'm a little bit drunk but still a little bit uptight but. . . after two more drinks, I'll be able to say almost anything to you. . ." Jamie glanced at Sara, surprised, her pulse quickening, as Sara continued to gaze at a spot across the room, largely avoiding Jamie's eyes. "And after another two, I'll be able to do. . ." Sara shrugged a little, picked up her glass and finished it off. Jamie stared at the glass of rum and Coke on the table. "Tegan's had three already," Sara added casually. Feeling Sara's eyes on her, Jamie glanced up as Tegan returned to the table, her face pink, looking from Sara's meaningful gaze, and then to Jamie. Jamie picked up her glass, met Tegan's eyes, and drank.


	29. It Only Fuels the Flames

**Author's Notes: 1) You guys' reviews are freaking AWESOME! So many smart, insightful, and really gratifying things to read; I love it! And to all of you "guest" and "anonymous" commenters, I wish you weren't so that I could answer all of your excellent reviews! But since I can't, I thank you profusely here and beg you to consider getting a fake screenname so that I can. ) 2) LOVED reading all of your comments about your first times/anticipated first times. Thank you guys for sharing such personal stuff with me! It was so interesting. :) 3) Let me know if we melt your head.**

**Chapter 13 - It Only Fuels the Flames**

By the time we get back to the bus, I think we're all pretty drunk. Not sloppy drunk, I don't think, but it's a little hard to tell because it hasn't peaked yet. Sara gets a little moody and dark when she drinks, but she warms up as well, and I can see that warmth in her now. When Jamie looked over at me and took a sip of that rum and Coke I felt a little shocked, but I was pretty sure that she knew what it meant and that she knew that I did too, even though neither of us was going to say anything about it. I felt more than a little guilty once I'd worked out what Sara was proposing, but just thinking about how I'd felt the previous night with each of them kissing and touching me instantly made me thankful that I wasn't a guy because it would've been obvious. I tried to say something but couldn't. What did Sara say to her when I was in the bathroom? Whatever she said, Jamie is with us now and we're back in the bus. We had two more drinks than Jamie did, but she's never had any alcohol before so it's hitting her harder. She's a bit tipsy, and her face is all flushed. Her eyes are different; they're heavier, a little unfocused. She's smiling, though, so I think it's okay, but there's a questioning look in her eyes and I don't blame her. Maybe our train has really gone off the rails this time but at this point, I don't care.

"Jamie, you need water!" Sara says with a laugh, opening the fridge and grabbing some bottled water.

"I have to pee," Jamie says, but takes the bottle from Sara.

"Yeah, but you have to drink water, believe me." Jamie takes the bottle and drinks, as Sara walks down through the living room area and into the bedroom in the back.

"I think my bladder is going to explode," Jamie says, and goes into the bathroom, almost forgetting to close the door. She laughs at herself, and I laugh at her, and she closes the door.

I feel a little light headed as I walk back to the bedroom where Sara is. When I get back there, she is sprawled out on the bed with her eyes closed and I think, _fuck, she's passed out already_, but when I walk over and stand above her, she opens her dark eyes and looks up at me and that thing happens to me again, that liquid warmth. She looks at me and doesn't smile. She holds out a hand and I take it, thinking that I will pull her to her feet, but she pulls me down on top of her on the bed and I prop myself up above her with one hand on either side of her face and she looks up at me, her legs shifting so her knees are around my hips and she's looking from my eyes to my lips with this look she gets sometimes when I press my hips down into her, that look that wants more, so I lower my face but she raises her hands and catches my face between them and stops me there, so close to her face that I feel her warm sweet breath and she's looking at my lips and I feel her draw in a breath, her chest pressing up against me. I don't move because there's something happening and she wants it like that. She looks at my lips and draws one thumb slowly across my lower lip and her mouth looks so soft. She bites her lower lip a little but I want to bite it for her. I want to kiss her right now but her hands are on my face, holding me still. What is she waiting for?

"Are you okay?" I ask her quietly, and she nods once and the slightest smile passes over her lips, so close to mine.

"You?" she asks, her breaths a little deeper with my weight on her, and I nod. I'm starting to feel very warm and wonder what is going to happen and then she speaks again. "There's something I want to do to you. . . and I want Jamie to see it." Her voice is just a whisper but at the sound of those words, I feel all that liquid heat rush through me and I don't know how to answer. She doesn't usually talk like that and the fact is, it makes something happen to my body. Then I hear the bathroom door open and I reflexively start to pull away but she holds onto my face, her eyes still on mine. I hear Jamie's footsteps and even with five or six drinks in her, I see and feel Sara tense up, a little, but as Jamie comes into the bedroom, Sara pulls me closer and then her mouth is on mine and she kisses me with a kind of slow intensity and I feel the bed shift as Jamie lays down next to us. Sara rolls me onto my back, next to Jamie, so that Sara is on top of me and when the kiss is over, I take a breath and Sara looks at me and she's hot, I can see it in her face and Jamie being there is just intensifying it. I'm looking at Sara but she looks at Jamie and so I look at Jamie, too. And Jamie's eyes are on us, a little dazed, her face pink and hot from the rum, shy but not only shy, and I think that seeing us kiss has affected her too because the way she looks at me reminds me of Vancouver. And while my eyes are on Jamie's and hers are on mine, suddenly Sara's lips are on me again and she kisses me from my ear, to my neck, and then the place where my shirt opens and she's still on top of me and even though it's intense and my eyes want to close, I keep looking at Jamie as Sara opens the top button of my shirt. She opens two more buttons and kisses my throat, and my chest, and Jamie is looking at me like she wants me but she doesn't move.

Sara moves back up and kisses me again, deeply, so intensely I think I make a sound, and things are pulsing in me now and her hand keeps opening my buttons until they are all open and her hand moves slowly down my chest, over my belly. I see her reach over and take hold of Jamie's hand and for a moment I don't know what's happening, but Sara softly pulls on her hand and she comes closer to me. Sara slides down next to me so I'm between them again, like the other night in this bed. Sara pushes my shirt open wide and kisses my chest again, and then my stomach, which makes me gasp and there's a little spasm in my stomach. My eyes are on Jamie's again and I tell her _come here _with my eyes and she does. She comes close and gives me that look, that look that I almost can't describe but it's so full of heat, so close, and I raise my lips to her because I can't say anything, so then her lips are on mine again as Sara's mouth traces over my belly. It's too much already, two pairs of lips on me, and somehow it did not occur to me when we started that this could happen. Jamie kisses me again and her hands circle around my back and unhook my bra. My hazy brain can hardly keep up. I feel Sara unbutton my jeans as Jamie's hand slides softly under my bra and over my breast, sending a jolt through my body as I feel her fingertips lightly stroke me. After she pushes my shirt off my shoulders and my bra straps down my arms, I realize that Sara has my pants open and is peeling them down off of me and unbelievably, a moment later Jamie is kissing my breasts and I'm naked.

It is all starting to get too overwhelming to think, and I have never before felt so sensitive all over my entire body. Every inch of my skin is starting to tingle. I can't see Sara. Jamie's face returns to me and she kisses me again and I feel Sara's hands on my inner thighs, pressing my legs open and part of me wants to resist that but another part of me really doesn't, and so I don't resist it. So when Jamie presses my lips open with hers, and I feel her tongue on mine, I suddenly feel Sara's mouth too. I feel it, _there, _and I moan deeply, suddenly, into Jamie's mouth because her mouth is _there,_ on the part of me that was exposed to her when she pushed my thighs apart and now her tongue is there too and that has never happened before and I'm dizzy and I can't describe the sound I hear passing from my mouth into Jamie's because I can't even think. I can't do anything anymore and I feel, maybe, that I might pass out. Sara's tongue is soft and wet and slides against me, pushes into me a little and moves up, higher, pressing and circling against me where I am so swollen that I feel it pulsing against her tongue and I breathe heavily into Jamie's mouth and I'm moaning more now as she kisses me but I can't stop it. Jamie lifts her face then, a little, and turns her head, looking down my now-naked body and what she sees down there makes her mouth open a little and she looks back at me and she's so hot and I wish I could do something about that but I'm paralyzed.

Sara's tongue and lips on me are making my legs shake. My thighs keep involuntarily trying to close around her head and she presses one leg back with one hand, and her other hand slides over my belly. Jamie kisses me so many ways: Softly, slowly, deeply, intensely, and her hands are on me, on my skin, sliding over my nipples lightly, teasing, and I know there are agonized noises coming out of me and I can hardly care and occasionally a sound comes out of Jamie, too, as she touches me.

I'm momentarily embarrassed when I realize I've been pressing and moving my hips a little against Sara's mouth and when I do that, she increases the pressure with her tongue and I'm starting to feel little tremors inside, and I gasp again as Jamie's tongue slides over my nipple and it makes me throb all the way down to where Sara's tongue is. My breaths are getting quicker and I can't do anything about these sounds, these whimpering sounds I'm making that embarrass me but I'm beyond stopping it. My hands don't know what to do. With Jamie's mouth on my breast, my hands move to her hair, her neck, and when she comes back to kiss my lips again, and I tug a little at her shirt because I'm the only one who's naked but it's impossible, because Sara has pushed my legs open wider and her tongue moves all through me, the rhythm of it increasing to match my breaths, my sounds, the frantic pushing of my hips, and then Jamie's lips are close to my ear and she whispers, _look at Sara. . ._ and although my heart is already pounding, it lurches up into my throat at the sound of those words and I look down, past Jamie's hand on my stomach and there is Sara's head down between my thighs and she's moving against me and then she lifts her face just a little, her tongue continuing to stroke me as she meets my eyes and I start to lose it. The spasms are triggered by the look in Sara's eyes, by seeing what she's doing to me, and for a second my fingers move, reflexively, to her hair, pulling her face into me but it's getting so intense now and the wave is not sharp and fast but long and slow and building, oh my God, and Jamie's hand is on my face and she's looking at me, at my face, but the spasms make my head go back and close my eyes but I want her with me so I put my arms around her, gripping her, and I keep thinking it will start to fade but it's still building and I think I'm crushing Jamie. She gasps a little, with a tiny warm laugh and I release her and grab hold of the sheets because I need to grab something that I can't break and then Sara slides her tongue and closes her mouth over me and then, those last few seconds, she presses my thighs down and I cry something out and with the blood pounding in my ears and heaving breaths I come hard, not able to control the volume of my voice, squeezing Sara tightly with my thighs, my entire body tense, and something surprising and wet happens down there and I am shocked by it a little but I can't help it. My arms are around Jamie again and I crush her to my chest and Sara's mouth doesn't stop and the spasms come again and again and I moan against Jamie's lips and _Oh God_ I think I say after the kiss and _oh fuck _because the contractions are longer and slower and haven't stopped yet.

Sara kisses me there, where her tongue had been, kisses the insides of my thighs, and Jamie is kissing me in the tender way she does after I come and I wish she felt how I feel right now because my limbs are tingling and the inside of me is still pulsing. My legs are trembling and my heart is still pounding when Jamie moves aside a little and then Sara is there, next to me, her hand sliding over my body and then her hands are in my hair and she kisses me and gives me her tongue and I get such a jolt, because one moment ago Jamie was kissing me and her mouth is different and their lips are different but right now the taste of her mouth shocks me. She kisses me twice, and then moves away for a moment, and I close my eyes, still gasping, catching my breath and now that I've come I feel so naked because I've just remembered that they aren't. When I open my eyes again, Sara is propped up next to Jamie and it's an indescribable look that I see between them for one second before Sara leans in and kisses Jamie on the mouth. At first it's as if my brain has completely jammed, as if the gears have just lurched to a sudden, crashing halt, and I can't understand what's happening or what I'm seeing, just like it did when I woke up and Sara was kissing Jamie in my bed. In half a second it catches up at light speed, shouting, _what are you doing? I kiss Jamie; you don't kiss Jamie! _ And then it occurs to me what Jamie will be able to taste in Sara's mouth because the kiss is deep and hot and I see Sara give Jamie her tongue and I don't know what Jamie will do but Jamie kisses her back and then Sara pulls Jamie on top of her and Jamie's hair falls around Sara's face and they kiss again and seeing it makes me throb between my legs all over again although I haven't even had a chance to recover yet.

Jamie gives me a look a moment later as she lifts up and ties her hair back. Sara's hands, to my surprise, slide up Jamie's sides, pulling at her shirt, and then Sara has slid Jamie's shirt up and over her head and I watch Jamie's naked back, crossed only by her bra straps, as Sara pulls Jamie down on top of her again and I'm hypnotized by it until it hits me what Sara is doing and I don't know how but I guess I'm a bit too drunk to have figured it out sooner and I suddenly realize I have to grab this chance that Sara is dropping in my hands. When I move I see that the sheets are wet but I just ignore it and crawl to Sara, and I watch them as they kiss and Jamie's upper body is pressing down on Sara's and Jamie's hand is moving up inside Sara's shirt and I'm remembering what that felt like with Jamie's fingers on my breast, and the room is spinning a little and then I'm unzipping Sara's pants. She lifts her hips a little to help me pull them off, along with her underwear, and then she's naked below the waist and I have never been down there to see that in the light and I don't think I should see it, but then I change my mind because she's me and she's mine and that includes all of her, every part of her. I look up for a moment and see that Sara has unfastened Jamie's bra and pulled it off of her and Jamie's hands pull at the buttons of Sara's shirt and seeing Jamie slowly undressing Sara while they kiss makes all of my blood flow down to where Sara's tongue had been just a few minutes before.

So then it's my turn to push Sara's legs open, and I do it before she can change her mind. I press against her thighs and she doesn't stop me and I can't believe it, and my heart races, my face burns. How can I tell anyone about that? She is wet and I can actually _see it_ with my eyes and the tequila in my blood has peaked and the room tilts and shifts and Sara's legs are spread open for me and I kiss her there first, before I press my tongue into her. I feel faint, a little. All of my senses are flooded with her, and my lips and tongue feel the wet heat of everything down there and I hear her voice, the way it sometimes sounds a little pained when I touch her, along with a gasp of surprise, and I look up to see Jamie kissing her body now, Sara's shirt open, and I watch them hungrily as my tongue circles around that part of Sara that only my fingers have touched and that's all and as my tongue presses and strokes against this place that swells against my mouth, I slowly and gently slide two fingers inside of her. She tenses, and gasps, the muscles inside of her tightening around my fingers and I turn my hand and slowly curl my fingers against that spot inside of her, stroking there on the inside as my tongue and lips move over the outside of her.

Now her hips are moving like she needs it, like she can't help it, pressing her against my mouth and I trap one of her legs under my arm as my tongue works more quickly, and I can see up the length of her body, her chest rising and falling heavily against Jamie's hands, whimpering into Jamie's mouth and then her hands are in my hair, her fingers gripping my head, pulling me to her as her hips push up, pressing herself against my tongue and a moment later her voice rises in a way that would make me think I was hurting her except I know she sounds like that in moments like this and the sound is muffled against Jamie's mouth until she loses the ability to return the kiss. I watch her again as the rhythm of her hips escalates more and she grabs at the pillow behind her head and pulls it up around her face, clutching it to her as she draws in a quick breath, holds it, and then muffles a low moan against the pillow. The muscles inside of her pulse and squeeze my fingers and I continue to stroke there inside of her for a few more seconds but I raise my face because I want to see her, watch her back arch and see Jamie's eyes on her face as the waves wash over her. She squeezes me with her thighs and I keep my fingers inside because that squeezing made me gasp too. Jamie's eyes are on mine as I wait there for the pulsations to stop and after a moment, I slowly pull my fingers out and crawl back up to Sara's face. She's hot and a little sweaty and her hair is stuck to her forehead and I brush it back for her and she looks at me with her lips a little parted and I kiss her so intensely it makes her moan again. I wonder if she feels that same shock to taste her taste in my mouth as I kiss her again. I wonder how much her taste tastes like my taste, but at this point I can't even tell. Jamie is watching us and I'm dizzy and hot again and I've had a lot of tequila and the room is spinning and Sara's hands are grabbing at my hips because my hips are between her legs and I'm pressing against her. I _need_ to come again, after that, and I think she does too, and I feel like we're both crazy and our skin is hot and sticky and we have each other all over each other and I give her a few hungry kisses, her breasts pressing against me with every quick breath.

And then I look at Jamie and her eyes are heavy from the rum, her face red from it, from kissing me, touching Sara, from watching us, from all of it and this is all too much and her face is painted with desperate desire, and she needs me, I can really see it, and I want to see her come. I feel Sara's eyes on me and then she softly but insistently pushes me over to Jamie and I slide off Sara and move close to Jamie. She puts her arms around me like she's missed me in the minutes I've been away and we kiss again and I think both our heads are swimming. I feel heavy and slow and I can't keep my head up but Jamie's hands are around the middle of me and Sara, next to us, has opened the top button of Jamie's pants. Jamie's dark eyes meet mine, and there is a moment of hesitation but the rum has washed away most of her shyness, and what she's been watching has washed away the rest of it. Her eyes are on mine as Sara unzips her pants and takes hold of them, peels them down a few inches. After another moment's hesitation, Jamie lifts her hips and Sara pulls them all the way off. I kiss Jamie again, and my hand slides over her, feeling her heat and the way she holds me, pulls me closer, because she wants me differently than Sara does. The strangeness of it all is powerful enough to break through the delirium that I feel, the surreality of it as I see Sara slide down between Jamie's legs and then a second later, when I kiss her again, her hand clenches the back of my neck like it did that first moment in Vancouver when I pushed my fingers inside of her. She squeezes me and gasps and I know why and the way she holds onto me floods my chest with something you wouldn't expect to feel under such bizarre circumstances and at that moment my mind and my guts and the hot parts of me don't care what is strange and what isn't. I kiss her mouth again, then her throat, and then her chest, rising and falling against my lips and I hear a sound escape from her lips even though she tried to stop it and for a moment, my eyes turn down to Sara. I see Jamie's legs over Sara's shoulders, her mouth pressed there and I'm just dizzy and I feel like I might be able to come again just from watching it. It's so intense for me because Sara is mine and I feel like I am sharing them with each other and I kind of want to be between them, and because I have never done what Sara is doing to Jamie now, although we've been naked with each other and we've been inside of each other and even cried together. But it's better for me to be with her while Sara's mouth is down there.

I lick and suck a little at Jamie's nipples and she puts her hands on my face, in my hair, and Sara has pushed her knees up and she moans, pulling me back to her, so I come back up and look at her face but her eyes are closed. She knows I'm there though and her hand on the back of my neck again pulls me closer and I kiss her. Her lips are trembling, her breathing heavy and fast and I know how she feels because I have just felt Sara's tongue, too. I touch her skin, my hand gliding over her belly which is spasming a little already but she was so hot before Sara started so of course it will be quick. She was kissing me and tasting my tongue, intensely, just a moment ago but now she's moaning more and she can't really kiss me anymore but her mouth is against mine, a little open, and I breathe with her because watching it is not the same as doing it. This time, I can see all of it, see everything. Her face is red and tense and she's squeezing me and I always want to laugh a little and she'll think I'm teasing her but I'm not. And then her breaths get sharper and she makes this kind of trembling cry that I've heard before and I'm already wet but holy shit. And I feel the tension all through her body as she squeezes me again and then she goes limp in my arms. I hold her and kiss her as she gasps and kiss her again as she takes a deep breath. Then, I see that Sara has come back, and it's all surreal again because after what Sara has just done, will she say something or do something or what? Jamie's eyes are closed and I wonder if she's drunk enough to not be shy. I'm also so worked up again that I don't even know if I can stand it. I kiss Jamie again, slowly, and she kisses me back like she could do it forever and after a few moments, I slide down next to her and my lips are sore and I just need something to make all of this hot, frustrated tension below my waist go away before I die. Jamie's eyes are still closed and suddenly I see Sara there, and she's somehow already put on the strap-on like she knows, or more likely, because after all of that she needs it as fucking badly as I do. In a moment she is on top of me and there is nothing leading up to it this time because all of this has led up to it and my knees are raised around her hips and one hand goes down and with her fingers she guides the end of it against me and then it is inside me and it starts to stretch the tension out of my body and it feels so fucking good. How hot and inflamed and wet everything is and she pushes into me and it feels like such a relief but I need more, and I wrap my legs around her again because it makes me feel her even more deeply and because I can't help myself. She kisses me and we thrust together, frantically, and I look at her face, so hot and flushed and intense and full of the same consuming need I feel, and when she kisses my neck I turn and see Jamie's eyes on us but they're heavy and a moment later her eyes flutter a little and she's unconscious, lying next to us, naked, while Sara drives her hips faster against me and I vaguely remember scratches on Jamie's back in Vancouver but now she's passed out next to us and my fingers grip Sara's slick back for a few more deep thrusts and then I feel that wave of heat all through me again and groan and Sara's rhythm falters, a little, and I look up and see from her face that she is close too, and that look alone is enough to start to send me over the edge, so I grab her ass and pull her to me hard for a few moments and we both come, whimpering and holding our breaths, and I squeeze her with my arms and legs and her face is in my hair and she shudders over and over again. She keeps pushing into me, a few more times and the spasms leave my fingers and toes numb.

_"Oh my god. . . fuck_," Sara gasps against my lips as I kiss her again. We both glance over at Jamie, breathing hard together, our heads swimming with alcohol and sex and disbelief. "Did she pass out?" Sara breathes.

"I think so," I say, feeling just as breathless, my eyes on Jamie, my arms still around Sara, her hot skin against mine. She rests her forehead against mine, and her eyes are closed. I feel her starting to drift too so I squeeze her and she comes back to me, but she's fading and when she starts to pull out of me I wrap my legs around her again.

"No," my voice says to her lips and she kisses me one more time, and it's soft and slow now, and her body, naked in my arms, is so good, so warm and soft and I can still feel all of the blood rushing through every part of my body. She kisses my neck, and then my shoulder, and then she lays her cheek against mine and her damp hair tickles my ear.

"You're all sweaty," I say to her hazily.

"So are you," she murmurs, and then I feel the weight of her on me because she's unconscious and then it's dark and I am too.


	30. Don't Pull Away

**Author's Note: Question of the chapter! I enjoyed hearing your "first time" stories, and so I thought I'd get even more personal. Have any of you actually been in a threesome? If so, how on earth did that happen?! How was it? ;D If you haven't been in one, who would you want to be in one with (other than T&S, because come on, that one is taken. :P )**

**Chapter 14 - Don't Pull Away**

I opened my eyes to the pink sky of early morning through the skylight. I'm not sure what woke me up, but it was either the intense pressure of my overfull bladder, or the sensation of someone shifting on the bed near me. The sound of a soft, sleepy grunt accompanied my return to consciousness, as did that heavy, swirling sensation in my head and body. I had nothing to base it on, but given how confused my brain felt, I absently guessed that I was still drunk. I shifted my eyes to the left, half expecting to see the curtain of my bunk, but instead, there they were. The top bed sheet had been kicked down and was wrapped around Sara's leg; the top corner of the bottom sheet pulled away from the mattress, exposing the white padding underneath. The grey comforter was sliding off of the opposite corner of the bed, with most of it already piled on the floor. I recognized my shirt on the other side of Tegan's head, with Sara's bra hanging halfway off of the bed next to it. Various other pieces of our clothing lay strewn on the floor in shadows. Sara had just suddenly woken as well, it seemed, and was slowly lifting her head off of Tegan's shoulder as she lay there, still on top of Tegan, Tegan's arms loosely flung around her back. They were still as naked as I was, although Sara's backside was framed by the straps of the harness and by Tegan's bare thighs. _Is she still inside? _I wondered, and then instantly felt my body begin to burn all over again as I remembered the last thing I had been conscious of before passing out hours before: the sight of Sara thrusting into Tegan, again. . . again. . . again. . . both of them red and hot and breathless. Half a moment later, Sara groaned a little, sleepily, and started to slide off of Tegan. That movement immediately woke Tegan with a start and a pained gasp; her eyes flew open as her arms reflexively tightened around Sara.

"Don't move!" Tegan hissed.

"Oh, my God. . ." Sara mumbled blearily, not moving. "Is it still. . ."

"Yeah," Tegan said tensely, and for a second they made eye contact. Sara made a tentative move again and Tegan winced. "No! Shit, don't move-"

"We can't _stay _like this. . ." Sara whispered apprehensively. "How the. . . oh fuck. . ."

I lay there between uncertainty and my drunken haze and saw the moment when Sara realized that the harness was tangled up, somehow, in the bed sheet, which was partly wrapped around her and partly stuck under Tegan. And partly under me.

Sara tried to reach one arm around her back to tug at the sheet where it was twisted into the harness, but her movement brought another gasp from Tegan.

"Ah, ah, fuck! Don't move sideways like that-"

"I'm sorry," Sara whispered, touching Tegan's face for a moment. "Is it. . . what's. . . happening down there?"

"It's like. . . it feels. . . bigger," she whispered, her face pained. "And _stuck_. Like, I think it's just. . . we're going to have to stay like this forever. . ." Sara started to laugh, and quickly covered her mouth with her hand; surely they would be horrified if I woke up and saw them in this state, so I kept still, but honestly, I couldn't take my eyes off of them. I was naked where I'd passed out and feeling very exposed and didn't really want their attention on me, but luckily their predicament was taking all of their attention. Sara's body shook with suppressed laughter, and that shaking traveled through Tegan's body as well, causing her to tightly grip Sara's hips and wince, sucking in a sharp breath.

"Don't laugh," she hissed. "Fucking stop fucking moving already!"

"If you don't want me to laugh, then don't be so fucking funny," Sara whispered.

"Fucking Christ. This is. . . this is. . . fucking. . . holy fuck," Tegan muttered, and a second later, a cell phone started ringing. On the night stand. By me.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Sara muttered, as she glanced over at me, her bangs falling over her eyes. "Oh, good morning, Jamie," she said, immediately flushing, bright red, from her face, down her neck, and to her chest. Tegan turned her head to me, obviously embarrassed but not even close to how mortified Sara looked. The phone rang on and on as we all lay there staring at each other, frozen. Tegan raised her eyebrows, giving me a questioning look, and I glanced over at the screen.

"Uh. . . your, um. . . mother," I said, testing my voice for the first time, thinking my throat might close around that word. Tegan bit her lip, pushing out her labret piercing, and Sara shook her head, pushed her face against Tegan's shoulder. We all listened to the phone ring and ring and ring and ring. There was nothing to be said about that so we just let the words evaporate between us. I looked at them, their pale bodies intertwined, breasts pressed against each other's, not knowing where my eyes should or shouldn't rest, and again extremely conscious of being naked, but still drunk enough to not bother doing anything about it in the middle of this more urgent situation. And their mother. On the phone.

"Wanna answer the phone?" Tegan said wryly, but Sara couldn't laugh this time as Tegan started to chuckle and then tensed up again. To my - and surely their- relief, the phone stopped ringing. "Shit, I need this. . . thing. . . um, Jamie?" She turned her head and looked at me again. "Uh, we seem to be in a bit of a jam, haha." By this point, Sara had lowered her face so that it was pressed into the pillow on the opposite side of Tegan's head. The combination of their naked conundrum and their mom on the phone had rendered her horrified to the point of speechlessness; although, as it were, Tegan was the one in the more. . . _exposed_ situation.

"I. . . yeah, I. . . see that," I said.

"The sheet is tangled up in the, um, thing, and. . . uh. . . the sheet is under you and, um, under me and, ah, twisted around Sara and. . ." Tegan hesitated. "The. . . thing is like. . . still. . . um. . . Sara can't really move because it like. . ." Tegan winced.

"It hurts," I said.

"Yeah. Haha. And I think Sara has passed out from embarrassment," Tegan said, tenderly rubbing Sara's naked back. Sara's face remained pressed against Tegan's and down into the pillow so all I could see of it was her left ear and her messy hair. She made a soft groaning noise and said nothing.

"Can I. . . um. . . help?" I offered tentatively.

"Yeah, maybe if you could help with the sheet then Sara could like. . . pull out. . ."

"Okay," I said, gathering the tangled disaster that was my hair, and, testing the weight of my head, carefully sitting up. I slowly crawled off of my corner of the sheet and followed the twisted mess with my hand, feeling shy with Tegan's eyes on my body but realizing that my nakedness didn't even begin to compare to the situation she was in. An exposed bit of velcro on the harness had attached itself to the flannel bed sheet, which was also twisted around Sara's left leg.

"How the fuck. . ." I started to say with a laugh, still dizzy, as I lost my balance, righted myself on my knees again, and began to gingerly unwind the sheet from Sara's leg. "Here, lift your leg a little. . ." Sara groaned a little in response and lifted as Tegan laughed, trying not to, since every move she made appeared to give her a little jolt of pain. She kept her arms tightly wrapped around Sara as I started to pull the threads of the sheet out of the velcro at Sara's hip.

"She has a nice ass, eh?" Tegan said cheekily as I pulled the sheet away from them, bit by bit.

"Tegan, shut up," I heard Sara mumble against Tegan's neck. In fact, it was pretty hard to ignore Sara's ass, right there in front of me as I tried to extricate her from Tegan and the tangled mess.

"Haha, yes," I said with a laugh, and Sara groaned again. _Just like yours_, I thought. After a few more minutes of struggling with the sheet, I got it all pulled off and untwisted.

"Okay, you're good now, I think," I said. Sara raised her face and looked at Tegan, the lines from the pillowcase faintly across her cheek.

"Okay I'm going to try to. . . uh. . ." she said.

"Yeah but. . . really slowly," Tegan said.

"Okay," Sara assured her.

"And don't move sideways," Tegan reminded her.

"Okay," Sara murmured again, carefully lowering one hand, under her own body, pressing the base of it against her as she slowly drew her hips back.

"Ah ah ah. . . ow. . . ow. . ." Tegan hissed, sucking air through her teeth as Sara slowly withdrew and they were separated at last. "Fuck. . ." Sara quickly took the bed sheet and flung it over all of us.

"Is your. . . um, are you. . . okay. . . ?" Sara asked, as I noticed the faint movement of her hand slipping down, under the sheet, to tentatively touch between Tegan's legs as though she were checking for damage. Tegan took a breath and nodded, and then Sara leaned over and kissed her lips for several long seconds. My head was still spinning as I watched them kiss slowly, and I wondered where we were, what time it was, and how long it would all last. I lay down heavily next to Tegan as she and Sara kissed again and then when Sara lay her head on Tegan's shoulder, Tegan found my hand under the sheet, and pulled me over to her. I rolled closer to face her, and put one hand on her belly. Tegan, between Sara and me, turned her face to me and looked at me warmly, her eyes laughing. Without even thinking, I leaned in to press my lips against hers, to taste her mouth, and she kissed me back and looked at me again.

"So Jamie," she started, "how many times have you been asked to help identical twins who have passed out stuck together-"

"Holy fuck, Tegan, just stop talking," Sara groaned, burying her face in Tegan's neck.

"Haha," I laughed. "This is probably only like, the second time. In my life," I said. Tegan laughed.

"Ha! Well it's a good thing that you were here to help," Tegan said. "Otherwise we would have had to wait until we got to London and stopped the bus and then like, Johnny would have come looking for us. . ."

"Oh my God," Sara moaned. Tegan chuckled.

"Yeah. So you should really thank Jamie," Tegan pointed out, cheekily.

"Thank you Jamie," Sara mumbled against Tegan's neck.

"Oh, well, any time," I said.

"So next time we get stuck together, we can just call you?" Tegan asked.

"Absolutely," I said.

"Or maybe you'll be with us," Tegan laughed.

"I hope so."


	31. It Only Makes Me Want to Stay

**Chapter 15 - It Only Makes Me Want to Stay**

"Hey there sunshine!" Ted teased as Jamie slid into the booth across from him at the American-style tourist trap of a greasy spoon diner next to where their buses had parked for the night. "What happened to you?!"

"Hey," Jamie mumbled, not answering his question, the sleeves of her hoodie pulled over her hands, the hood pulled up over her head and then down nearly over her eyes. She propped her head up on her sleeve-covered hand and stared down at the laminated menu on the sticky plastic table.

"Oh, hey, Tegan, want to join us?" Ted called as Tegan walked by, appearing not to notice them through the huge dark glasses that covered half of her face.

"Oh, um, no... coffee, sorry..." she muttered as she turned abruptly and quickly walked back to the front counter of the restaurant, a pink flush visible on her cheeks even under her enormous sunglasses.

"Well that was weird," Ted mused, turning back to face Jamie, her eyes still hidden under her hood, "She doesn't even drink coffee."

"Mmm," Jamie murmured, not looking up. Sitting at a table and making normal conversation with either of the twins - even Tegan - was not something she felt prepared to do just yet. She had a sneaking suspicion that looking at either of them would only cause her to immediately picture their faces between each other's legs. . . or, more bewilderingly yet, her own. That kind of mental image was just extremely awkward over french toast. And at the moment, the thought of french toast made her feel a little bit sick too.

"Hey," Ted said, drawing her attention back to the present, "did something happen? I mean, I've seen Sara act that weird around you, but not Tegan."

"Mmm," Jamie replied again, still staring at the menu but not actually seeing anything on it. Her head hurt too much to think, and she couldn't even fathom where to start. Even with Ted, her confidante, she wasn't sure she wanted to give away what had happened. _What kind of person is he going to think I am? _If incest was wrong, as so many people thought it was, then what did that make someone who was right in the middle of it? And who had _enjoyed_ it? Not to mention that she wasn't too sure what Tegan and Sara would think if she gave away what had happened. The time with the cupcakes had been an accident, unplanned, and she had chalked it up to drug-induced insanity. But last night had been so. . . _planned_. Not to mention that the time before, they had all been clothed. _Mostly clothed_, she thought, an image of Tegan, pantsless and unconscious next to Sara, flashing through her mind as clear as day. And the last time, she and Sara hadn't even touched at all. And this time. . .

"Jeeeeesseee..." Ted drew out her name as the memory of feeling Sara's chest under her lips assaulted her brain. "Come on, tell me. Oh my god. . ." he lowered his voice to a whisper as he leaned across the table closer to her, "did you sleep with Tegan again?" The mischievous excitement in his voice was evident. Jamie hesitated.

"Sort of," she mumbled, still refusing to look up.

"Sort of?" Ted replied, amused, "How do you _sort of_ sleep with somebody?"

"I don't know," Jamie mumbled again, images of kissing Tegan while glancing down to see Sara's head moving between Tegan's thighs flashing through her mind. Her face had begun to burn, but there was no way she was moving out from under the safety of her hood.

"Well you've slept with her before," Ted tried again, "and you guys were fine. I mean, you seemed totally comfortable around each other after that. . . actually even more comfortable than you did before that!"

"Mmm. . ." Jamie replied again, truly uncertain as to how to respond to that. She wished her head didn't hurt so much. . .

"So what's different about this time?" Ted pressed. Jamie paused for a long moment, wavering. "Yes?" he persisted. The desire not to be alone in the weirdness and awkwardness of the situation won out over her desire not to look weird and awkward in front of Ted.

"Sara," she mumbled, glancing up at Ted long enough to see a puzzled expression register on his face before she stared back down at the table.

"Sara?" he repeated, "but what. . . oh no, did she like, catch you? Or. . ." Jamie shook her head. "Or is she mad. . .?" Jamie shook her head again. "But she knows. . .?" Jamie nodded.

"Coffee?" A waitress in a blue apron interrupted the interrogation, holding out the

steaming pot she carried.

"Yes, please," Ted answered, letting her fill his cup.

"Just water, thanks," Jamie mumbled, not looking up.

"Are you sure, love?" The waitress smiled. "You look like you could use some!"

"She'll be all right once she comes clean," Ted replied, grinning. Jamie glanced up at him and glared.

"Okay then," the waitress replied, looking amused. "Just give me a shout if you change your mind!" She moved on to the next booth and Ted eagerly leaned across the table again.

"Okay, so Sara knows and she's not mad. So what does she have to do with it, then? . . . I mean, unless she was, like, there. Ha!" Ted laughed heartily and smacked the table as Jamie groaned, folded her arms on the table in front of her and flopped her head into them with a thump.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah, wait. . . wait. . . what?" Jamie heard the laughter in Ted's voice vanish, replaced with shocked disbelief. "Sara was THERE? Like she SAW. . . you and Tegan. . .?" Ted trailed off, paused, and started again slowly, a fresh wave of incredulity in his voice as he began to put the pieces together. "I mean, was she just like. . . I mean, was she. . . was she. . . just. . . there, or. . . was she. . . did she. . ." he couldn't finish the thought. Jamie groaned again into her sleeves, still face down on the table. "Holy fuck," Ted breathed, stunned. "Woah. . . I mean. . . just. . . fuck." He stopped again, and was silent for so long that Jamie slowly peeked up at him with one eye from under her hood to make sure he hadn't had a heart attack or gone into respiratory failure at the table. He was still sitting there, jaw dropped, coffee abandoned, staring at her hood without seeing her. "I don't. . . I can't. . ." he struggled, "believe they would. . ."

". . .me neither," she mumbled. In spite of herself, Jamie felt a bubble of amusement at Ted's stunned disbelief, and lifted her head off of her arms a little more to look at him.

"I mean. . . holy shit," he murmured.

"Yes," she agreed.

"But, like," he started thoughtfully, "it _almost_ makes some kind of fucked-up sense. Almost. I mean. . . Sara and Tegan. . . _you_ and Tegan. . ." Jamie felt her face continue to burn under her hood. "And I mean, the girls, they kind of like. . . I mean, they kind of. . . _share_ everything. . . you know?" he continued. Jamie felt the nerves flutter in her chest at that statement. Was she being _shared_? . . .and was that a _bad_ thing? "And so _that's_ why they. . ." he said, new realization dawning in his voice, "that's why you. . . the rum and Coke. . . oh shit. . ." Jamie looked down, hiding her face under her hood again. "Did you _know_ that was going to. . . were they trying to. . . oh my God!" Jamie, head still down, gave a barely visible nod. "Oh my God!" Ted repeated, "so you. . . on _purpose_. . . you knew. . . that was going to. . ." Ted seemed to have lost the ability to make complete sentences. "But how did you. . ." he spluttered, "how did that even. . . how would. . . I mean, _how_. . ."

"Cupcakes," Jamie mumbled into her sleeves.

"Cupcakes?" Ted repeated, confused. And then: "Holy _shit_! So those were. . . to. . .to. . ."

"No!" Jamie interjected, lifting her head painfully, "Those were, that time was an accident!"

"_That time?!_" Ted stared at her, bug-eyed.

"Oh God," she mumbled, putting her head back down on her arms.

"I _knew_ something was weird with you and Sara, but holy shit! I didn't think. . . I _never_ thought. . ."

_This is it_, Jamie thought, _not even Ted is going to be able to handle this one. Maybe I should go get my things. . ._

Ted was again silent for a painfully long period of time while Jamie stared at the darkness of the table an inch from her nose, inhaling the faint smells of pancake syrup and bleach. Then finally, "Jamie," Ted said in a hushed tone. Jamie braced herself. "You _do_ realize. . . that you are, like, living out the fantasy of like, every straight guy in history, right?" She lifted her head again and saw the playful smirk on his face. "And probably like, half of their fans. . ." She laughed out loud at this.

"Ha! Well I would like to inform them. . . that it is way more fucking _complicated_ than they think it is!" She and Ted laughed until the waitress with the blue apron returned to take their order.

"Feeling better, I see!" she said to Jamie with a smile

"Haha. . . sort of. . . oh God. . . you have no idea," Jamie laughed, deciding to give the french toast a tentative try, and Ted ordered pancakes with bacon. The waitress left, stashing her notepad in her apron pocket, leaving Ted to stare at Jamie as though she had just sprouted wings and announced that she would be flying back to North America herself. Feeling apprehensive about her decision to let Ted in on a secret that could potentially destroy her life - as well as Tegan and Sara's - and slightly nauseous after laughing so hard, Jamie again lowered her head onto her folded arms.

"And so, like. . . who was. . . I mean. . . what, like. . . _happened?"_ Ted managed to get out after a long pause, his brain running moments behind his tongue, but neither of them making much progress.

"Uhhhhhh God. . ." Jamie mumbled into her arms.

"I'm sorry but seriously. . . you need to fill in some of the holes, er. . . so to speak."

"Clever," Jamie groaned against her sleeve.

"Thanks. Don't even _bother _trying to change the subject."

"Ugh, what do you want me to say?" Jamie asked, looking up and quickly scanning the cafe, and wincing at the pain that so much movement brought to her head.

"Well, we know that Sara likes to be on top," Ted started, his glee now seemingly overtaking his shock. "And we know _you _like to be on top, so. . ."

"Holy fucking God," Jamie muttered under her breath, flushing deeply as Ted's face spread over with mischievous glee. She picked up her glass to avoid answering further.

"So what, did you like. . . like team up on poor Teegs or what?" Jamie was not quite finished swallowing a mouthful of water at that moment; most of it made its way down her throat, but a small amount squirted out as she snorted at that, and she covered her mouth. Ted snickered as Jamie clapped her hand over her mouth, coughed wetly for several moments, and swallowed.

"_Poor? _At one point, she had. . . two. . . mouths, like, um. . ." Jamie retorted, losing her confidence and trailing off inaudibly. Ted's eyes widened.

"Holy fuck." Jamie covered her mouth as she continued to cough, finally stopping and taking a deep breath.

"Yeah."

"Well?" Ted urged impatiently, as Jamie propped her head up between her sleeved hands.

"Well what?"

"Details. I need actual details."

"You _need _details?" Jamie repeated doubtfully.

"Yes."

"I mean, are you sure you even want to _know_?" she started. "I mean. . . you have to like, _work_ with them every day! They're your _bosses_! They're like your _family_!" she exclaimed, thinking that all of this would be about the last thing she would want to know about either of her siblings. . . or really, any of her friends, if she thought about it. She tried not to.

"Jamie," he replied with only slightly mock seriousness, "exactly _how_ often do I get to ask _anyone_ what it's like to be in the middle of a threesome with lesbian tw-"

"Okay!" she cut him off. He had a point. "Okay, okay. . . I mean, I'm just. . . I don't think. . . I can't, like. . ." Jamie floundered, and then briefly met Ted's gaze. "I don't even know if I can, like, say it. . . this is so. . . oh my God."

"Okay, I'll help," Ted offered.

"Thanks," Jamie replied sardonically. "Ugh, my head. . ."

"No, no getting out of it. Okay, so who topped Tegan first?" he asked, and Jamie choked a bit and coughed again at the question, hesitated for a moment.

"Um, well. . . Sara, uh. . . with her, uh. . ." Jamie's words failed her, as did Ted's ability to use the English language as she gestured to her mouth with one hand and he sat there, processing, his mouth slightly open, his eyes open wider.

"Her -"

"Shh, Jesus!" Jamie cut him off. "Yes."

"And. . . you. . . _saw_. . . uh. . ."

"Ha, well. . . I was, um. . . busy, but. . ." Jamie murmured, absently stirring her straw in her water glass.

"Busy doing _what?_" he asked, leaning over the table with a conspiratorial grin and Jamie, despite the wreckage in her cranium, smirked at him.

"What do you _think?_" she laughed.

"Well I don't know! Suddenly there seems to be so many _options_!" Ted raved, laughing, and Jamie laughed too.

"Welcome to the wonderful world of lesbians!" She laughed again, sighed, and took another tentative sip of water. "Well, I was, um. . . kissing Tegan and. . . and stuff while Sara. . ." Jamie shrugged off the incompletion of her sentence and Ted shook his head in disbelief. "Then. . . Tegan, uh. . . returned the favour. . ."

"Wow. . . wow."

"Uhhh. . . yeah."

"And. . . what. . . about you?" Jamie returned to blushing intensely, making a wet trail with her finger through some of the water she had spurted onto the table.

"Well I. . . Sara, like. . .uh. . ."

"You kissed Sara while Tegan-"

"Shh!" Jamie repeated, with another paranoid scan of the room. "Yeah."

"You kissed Sara!" Ted repeated in amazement as Jamie shook her head.

"Well I mean it wasn't the first time. . ." Jamie started, figuring she might as well lay it all out there.

"WHAT?!"

"Shhhh!" Jamie hushed him. "Well, I mean I guess last time _she_ kissed _me_, but. . ."

"When?!"

"I mean, it was back in Vancouver, and it wasn't. . . I mean, I don't think it was. . ."

"Okay, okay," Ted rushed her, "Well, how was that? I mean you and Sara hadn't-"

"No."

"So?"

"Come on. We were wasted!"

"But how was it?" he asked insistently. "I mean, you know. Everyone wonders about twins. If they're the same," Ted explained unnecessarily.

"They're not the same."

"How are they different?" he asked eagerly, and Jamie's mind gave her a soft recollection of Tegan's tender lips and Sara's, physically so similar, but with a certain kind of insistence behind them that differed so much from Tegan.

"Sara's a little more. . . I guess, um. . . aggressive?"

"Huh."

"Tegan's pretty, um. . ." There in the diner, with a throbbing skull and a queasy stomach, talking about a drunken, incestuous threesome over tap water with the band's guitar player, was not the time that she expected to get a lump in her throat about Tegan, but there it was.

"Tegan's pretty. . .?" Ted prodded her, his tone softening to match hers.

"Pretty gentle," Jamie murmured very quietly, and Ted nodded with a smile. He stirred his coffee thoughtfully for a moment, still neglecting to drink it, while Jamie swallowed away the lump.

"So then, what about you?" Ted asked at last, and Jamie looked at him quizzically.

"Hmm?"

"Well, surely in all of this chaos, one of them got around to getting you off!" Ted pointed out, as Jamie covered her face with her hands.

"Oh Jesus," she muttered.

"Well, right? I mean it's basic threesome etiquette," he said, laughing, and Jamie unsuccessfully tried to laugh, took a breath.

"Um, well. . . uh. . . Sara. . ." Jamie said into her hands, and then slowly lowered them when she heard no response from Ted. He stared at her, eyebrows raised.

"Sara. . .?"

"Ha," Jamie laughed.

"So, what? Did she like, strap on or-"

"Jesus, it's like I've created a monster. . ." Jamie groaned.

"Well? Did she?"

"Uh. . . no. . ." Jamie said delicately. Ted's eyes lingered on Jamie's for a moment, before she looked back to the table and the game she was playing with the water droplets.

"Are you telling me," Ted started in disbelief, lowering his voice to a whisper before Jamie had a chance to shush him, "that Sara. . . _went down _on you?"

"Fucking hell," Jamie whispered, covering her eyes with her hand again, trying to push away the sensation of Sara's hands grasping her thighs, Sara's tongue stroking her insistently, the tingling building where it touched. She crossed her legs.

"Well?"

"It's insane to even hear those words in that order," Jamie mumbled, eyes still covered, her face intensely red. Ted gave a low whistle, sounding stunned.

"Holy shit. Sara Fucking Quin. God damn."

"Jesus. . ." Jamie breathed again, sliding her hand away from her eyes and down her cheek, where Tegan's hand had been when it happened. She stared at Ted. They both took a moment to absorb that before Ted tried again.

"Weren't you like. . . I mean, was Tegan. . . Tegan was there and. . . and Sara went, um. . . okay so, and. . . well. . . Tegan. . . she like. . . she saw? I mean it's like. . . you were sleeping with Tegan and Sara's her sister and. . . and then they, um . . . wow."

"Ha," she laughed shortly. "Yeah. That."

"So like, the twin thing, again. . . I mean, how. . . was it, with Sara. . . I mean, compared to Tegan, like. . ." Ted struggled between obviously wanting to know and trying not to look too eager.

"I, uh. . ." Jamie felt her face getting hot yet again, "haha, I don't know. I mean, I, um. . . I wouldn't know. . ."

"So Tegan had never. . .?"

"No." Jamie answered quickly. "Um, no."

"No?"

"We, uh. . . we didn't, um. . . get that far," Jamie trailed off quietly, now pulling the paper wrapper of her straw through the water droplets on the table as well. Ted seemed to sense the lump forming in her throat again and quickly changed the subject.

"Okay, so was that it? Last night?"

"Was that _it_?" Jamie asked incredulously.

"Ha!" Ted laughed. "Well I mean, all good threesomes must come to an end! I mean, so I've heard." Jamie smirked.

"Well I don't know!" she laughed. "After Sara, um. . . I mean Tegan was kissing me and then she left, she went and, I uh. . . I. . . passed out. . . while they, um. . ." she felt her body heat up again as she closed her eyes and vividly saw Sara biting her lower lip, her brow furrowed in concentration as her hips thrust faster into Tegan; Tegan's eyes shut tight, head back, mouth open in a silent cry as her nails dug into the flesh of Sara's back and her legs began to tremble.

"Yes?"

"Uh. . ."

"Ha!" Ted laughed again, "Come on Jamie, you can do it! Just say it. You've come this far."

"Are you _seriously_ sure you want to know this?"

"_Yes!_" Ted answered emphatically, leaning forward over the table a little more still.

"Okay, um. . ." she hesitated. "Well, you asked about Sara strapping on, and, uh. . ."

"Oh wow. . ."

"Yeah. . ."

"Oh my _god_, you passed out during _that_?!" Ted howled, realizing, his head thrown back in laughter.

"Yeah. . ."

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" he smacked the table again, doubled over laughing. "Holy fuck. . ."

"Oh don't worry, I'm pretty sorry about it too!" Jamie exclaimed. "Like, for once, I'm actually _allowed_ to watch it, and. . ."

"Here we go!" the waitress interrupted, setting down Ted's plate of pancakes and bacon in front of him and Jamie's plate of french toast along with a small pot of syrup. "Can I get you two anything else?"

"No, thank you," Jamie laughed as Ted clutched his side, trying to catch his breath and wiping the corners of his eyes with his napkin, his giggles trailing off. The waitress walked away again, leaving Ted to eagerly dig into his food as Jamie scraped the butter off of her french toast and onto another plate with her fork, cut a small corner off of one piece, and took a tentative bite, chewing thoughtfully for a few moments.

"Ted," she said suddenly, swallowing, "you can't tell _anybody _about this. I mean, _nobody_. _At all_. _Ever._" She stared at him.

"My lips are sealed," he replied solemnly, putting down his fork and pretending to zip his lips and throw away the key. "Besides," he laughed, "seriously. . . who the _fuck_ would believe me?"


	32. It Was Monday

**Author's Note: ****Anyone seen all of the new pics of "Jamie" standing in between T&S on their Facebook page? *grins* ;) **

**P.S. Did anyone else notice that at shows T&S are now coming out to THE SAME FUCKING SONG that Tegan sang to Sara back in Chapter 7 of Part I before they got it on on the bus?! HOOOOOLY WHHHAAAAAT? Hahahaha! #ithinkwerenotalonenow #theyrewatchingus #itsasign #conspiracytheories!**

**Chapter 16 - It Was Monday**

Jamie stood at the counter, head throbbing, waiting for her camera to be returned to her and swallowing the taste that was rising up into her throat. Her first hangover experience confirmed her long-held assertion that alcohol was stupid, but even in her diminished state, she admitted to herself right there in the shop that if Tegan were to set another cocktail down in front of her, she wouldn't hesitate to drink it all. She hadn't spoken to either of the girls since they had woken up stuck together. When Jamie had reluctantly opened her eyes again to the revealing light of morning, she found that Tegan was in the shower and Sara had gone to sleep in one of the four bunks at the middle of the bus, the strap-on left in a pile on the floor. Jamie followed Sara's lead, retreating to her own bunk and hoping to sleep off the alcohol and the mortification until Ted texted her for coffee.

"Here you go," the shop girl said, setting the camera down on the counter and handing her the invoice. "Good as new." The girl gave Jamie a smile that was really more of a smirk, but that could have been her lip ring interfering with her smiling ability. Jamie suddenly realized that she probably looked as awful as she felt, and forced a sickly smile and a thank-you as she took the camera. "You live in London?" the girl asked as Jamie turned to go.

"No, I. . ." Jamie started, not sure how to explain where she lived anymore. "I'm here for work."

"Oh yeah? What kind of work?" the girl wondered. Jamie gave her a quick look as her eyes were on the register; Jamie felt reasonably sure that this girl was both a member of the team and likely to know who Tegan and Sara were.

"Advertising," Jamie replied, not at all willing or able to get into it. The girl gave her a half-smile.

"Well, enjoy London."

"Thanks."

. . . . . . . . . . .

Back at the bus, all Jamie wanted to do was sleep. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so odious, but it was probably after eating bad chicken in college and spending four days shivering, delirious, losing fluids from every orifice. This wasn't as bad as that, and yet it was somehow worse by virtue of being self-inflicted. She crawled into her bunk and closed the curtain, intending to sleep but suddenly awash in recollections from the previous night.

When she heard them clamber onto the bus, she hesitated just long enough to remind herself that she didn't want to be trapped in her bunk again, overhearing something she shouldn't overhear, so she stuck her head out of her curtain just as Sara walked by, and met Tegan's eyes.

"Hey, um. . . how are you feeling?" Tegan paused to ask her, blushing but apparently more prepared to speak to her than she had been earlier in the day, but not much more prepared to look her in the eye.

"Haha, well. . . I think I was right not trying it before," Jamie replied heavily and Tegan grinned, looking down.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Uh, a little bit, but I think I might regret it. I don't think I will eat anything ever again," Jamie groaned, looking for a bit of cuticle to bite. Tegan's eyes were on Sara at the end of the bus, but she nodded.

"Yeah, but you should. You have to go out and have a greasy breakfast to absorb all that liquid in your stomach. Hashbrowns, eggs-"

"Don't say eggs," Jamie said, with a look of distaste, rubbing her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm not feeling too hot either," Tegan admitted.

"How's Sara?"

"Oh, she's okay. I mean, she's basically an alcoholic, so. . ." Tegan said wryly, looking down the bus at Sara.

"Is. . . something wrong?" she asked, peering around the edge of her bunk to see what Tegan was seeing. She saw Sara standing at the end of the hallway, still, staring down at the screen of her cell phone. For an instant she was given another montage of images of Sara from the night before - her lips grazing Tegan's belly; pushing Tegan's thighs open. . .

"Uh, Sara's, um. . . returning. . . our mom's call," she said, pressing her labret piercing out with her tongue and then biting on it.

"Ah," Jamie said, remembering the scene that had accompanied their mother's last attempt to call.

"Tegan," Sara called to her, a little tensely.

"Uh. . . I think she needs like. . . moral support," Tegan mumbled, redder still. Jamie hadn't seen Tegan so embarrassed since she had brought out the strap-on for the first time in Vancouver.

"Oh, you. . . have you spoken since, um. . ." Jamie started and stopped again after the quick calculation in her mind didn't add up.

"Um, a few weeks but. . . yeah," Tegan said, shaking her head. "Um, I guess since we, uh. . . got this bus. . ."

"Tegan," Sara said again, and Tegan gave Jamie a quick look and followed Sara's voice to the end of the bus as Jamie pondered Tegan's words. They hadn't spoken to their mother since they'd gotten the little bus, since they'd started sleeping in the same bed together every night, since they'd apparently stopped trying to fight it. Since they'd been, more or less, happy. She peered down the hall to where they stood, staring together at the screen of Sara's phone, frozen, their faces fresh palettes of shame. Jamie retreated into her bunk as the girls quickly looked up at each other and made eye contact. Tegan gave Sara the slightest nod, and Sara looked at her screen, touched a key, closed her eyes, and pressed the phone to her ear while Tegan stood by tensely, playing with her piercing with a knotted brow.

"Hi mom. . ." Sara started. "Yeah, good. . . you?" Sara looked up at Tegan and then back down to the carpet. Tegan folded her arms and stood in front of Sara, watching, concerned, while Jamie lay there in her bunk, hearing them and trying to imagine what was going on inside of them in that moment. "Well it was like, five o'clock in the morning, so. . . No, still in London but tonight we're crossing over to France. . . yeah, it's good. It's better. Exactly. Well. . . actually, no. . . they screwed up our order and we ended up with, uh, one big bed, like we asked for a bus with two and they gave us this one. . . yeah, it's. . . it's fine. Tegan kicks me but, haha. . ." Sara's face reddened and she closed her eyes again, shook her head. Tegan bit her lip. "Yeah, fine. . . no, good. No, no more fights, no more. . . um. . . mom, that was an accident! I didn't punch. . . no! She was like, suffocating me and. . . yeah I know, mom. . . yeah. . . a couple of weeks in Europe and then. . . oh, yeah, um. . . she's good. She's on this little bus with us. Zombie sneakers. . . no, it's like, it was just this thing where like, Ted's feet were so smelly that. . . yeah, so it's the girls' bus. . . yeah I think so. I mean, she's. . . she's with us all the time, what could not be fun about that. . . um, yeah, Tegan's-" Sara looked up and Tegan closed her eyes and shook her head quickly, her arms folded tightly across her chest. "Um, actually, no, she just stepped out. Yeah, we're on the road in a few minutes so. . . okay. Haha, okay. Yeah. Love you too. Bye." Sara looked at the screen, stuck the phone in her pocket and pressed her hands against her eyes. "Jesus Christ," Sara murmured as Tegan stepped forward and put her arms around her. Jamie couldn't help but peer around the edge of her bunk again as they put their arms around each other and stood together like that for a quiet moment. Jamie watched them, her queasy stomach warming at the sight of it. Feeling the intimacy of the moment, she ducked back behind her curtain.

"Fuck," Sara said at last, taking a deep breath, and Tegan sighed. Sara was the one to finally tense up and extricate herself from the embrace and take half a step back. "She was like, how's your sister? Are you guys getting along. . ." Sara muttered this and Tegan winced. "I didn't think. . . like. . . I didn't expect to feel so. . ." She couldn't finish her sentence. She just shook her head again and a pained look crossed Tegan's face.

"I'll talk to her next time," Tegan said softly.

"God, can you. . . um. . . can you imagine if. . ." Sara didn't finish this sentence either; there was a catch in her voice. Tegan put a hand on Sara's arm.

"Don't. . . she won't. . ." Tegan started, her voice so quiet that Jamie, in her bunk, could just barely make it out.

"She could," Sara replied.

"She won't. We're only. . . it's only. . . just here, on this bus. Just us, and Jamie and-"

"Some day, if we forget. . . or slip up or I don't know. . . if we're just careless and. . . like the bus is parked and someone comes on or-"

"So we lock the door," Tegan said.

"And if we forget or like. . . if mom. . . Tegan. . ." Sara stopped again but the tears spilled over, and she quickly pressed her hands against her eyes.

"No, Sara, hey. . ." Tegan moved in closer and put her arms around Sara again. Sara's tears were threatening to cause the same response in Tegan. "She won't. . ."

"Is the door locked now?" Sara asked, pulling back and hurrying down the length of the bus, "Can people see in these windows, even? Have you ever checked?" Sara continued, her voice shaking.

"No, you know that they're like. . . polarized or-" Tegan's sentence was cut off by a half-muffled sob from Sara, a sound not familiar to Jamie, who lay frozen in her bunk. "No, hey. . ." said Tegan, approaching Sara, who hastily climbed down the three stairs, checked the door, and then sat heavily on the top stair "No, don't cry," Tegan said. "We're okay. . . I mean, right here, we're okay, we're safe. . ." Tegan said, her tone a little pleading, anxious. Jamie, despite herself, peered out again and saw them, just as Tegan sat down behind Sara, on the floor of the bus, and wrapped her arms around her distraught twin.

"Are you sure? Why are you so sure?" Sara demanded, in tears. "Why aren't you scared?" There was a pause.

"I am," Tegan said softly. "But I. . . can't. . . I need you more than. . ." The way Tegan sat, with her arms around Sara's middle and her legs around Sara's hips, reminded Jamie of when she had held Tegan like that on the hotel floor, as blood dripped hotly on her own hands. There was no blood this time, but she wondered if Sara's tears were dripping on Tegan's hands as she sat with her head hanging. Tegan kissed the back of Sara's neck. "We're okay. We don't. . . we aren't. . . hurting anyone. . ." This last whispered phrase struck Jamie in the gut; she felt her own eyes sting.

"She would die if she found out," Sara whispered, covering her eyes with her sleeve. Tegan squeezed her closer and Sara leaned back into Tegan's chest.

"Shh, she won't. . ." Tegan said, but even Jamie in her bunk could hear the doubt in her voice, the fear that she tried to disguise for Sara's sake. Sara took a shaky breath, shook her head.

"You don't. . . it's. . . why," Sara stammered, the anguish in her tone intensifying. "Why are we like this?" Jamie swallowed, held her breath, instantly reminded of those same words from Tegan's lips, in Tegan's bed in Vancouver. She could see them through the space in her curtain, Sara struggling with her tears, Tegan holding her tight. There was a pause. Tegan shook her head, her cheek against Sara's.

"I don't know," Tegan said, softly and briefly kissing Sara's neck, wet with tears. "Don't cry. . ."

"I don't want to be like this," Sara said softly. Tegan couldn't answer for a moment.

"But we are," she whispered at last.

"Why?" Sara asked Tegan, asked herself. Tegan shook her head.

"I don't know," she said again.

"It's so fucked, Tegan," Sara whispered, with a quiet sob.

"Yeah. . ." Tegan murmured into Sara's hair. "I love you. . ." Sara took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She nodded, her eyes closed, and Jamie thought then that she'd never seen such sad assent as in that nod.

"I'm fucked like this, with you. . . I'm fucked without you. . . either way, I'm just fucked," Sara said.

"No," Tegan tried to protest.

"I can't, like, live without you," Sara said bitterly, wiping her face with her sleeve again.

"You don't have to. Don't even think like that," Tegan responded gently, pressing her lips against the back of Sara's head for a moment. Sara made an effort to calm herself, and after a few deep breaths, the tears stopped.

"This isn't normal," Sara said.

"No," Tegan agreed with a heavy breath.

"I want to be normal," Sara said shakily.

"Well. . ." Tegan started, pondering. "I want to be a dolphin. But you don't always get what you want." Sara didn't laugh; rather, she burst into tears again, surprising Tegan and maybe even herself. Sudden sobs shook her, as she doubled over and covered her eyes with the crook of her elbow.

"No, hey. . . Sara, shh, no. . ." Tegan murmured close to her ear, swaying slightly from side to side. Jamie's heart clenched in her chest at this rare scene; she'd seen Tegan in this state, and she'd been the one to hold her and say comforting things. Sara had shown some emotion in their last day in Vancouver, but that had been much more contained. Sara's breaths were shallow and quick in Tegan's arms. This was not the Sara who controlled herself, measured her words. This was a different Sara.

"Shhhh, hey," Tegan whispered. "Take a breath. Take a breath. . ." Sara struggled to follow Tegan's advice, her breaths shaky at first, but then breathing deeply, her arm over her face. Tegan reached one hand around, took hold of Sara's hand and gently pulled it away from her face. "Take it easy. You're okay. We're okay. . ." Sara shook her head, her eyes shut tight.

"Are we. . . going to. . . always. . . be like this?" Sara asked with some effort. Jamie could see Tegan's eyes close, her cheek against Sara's wet cheek.

"I don't. . . I. . . I think we'll figure it out. Somehow. . ." Jamie's heart hurt for Tegan's words and for how true she tried to make them sound. Neither of them believed it.

"How, Tegan?" Sara asked, struggling to calm herself again. She took a few deep breaths.

"I don't know but. . . we have to. . . try, because. . ." Tegan stopped, at a loss. "I think. . . because. . ."

"What choice do we have?" Sara asked, defeated. Tegan pressed her lips to Sara's shoulder for a moment.

"Yeah," Tegan murmured. Sara lay her hands over Tegan's arms, wrapped around her belly.

"I. . . how. . ." Sara began and then sighed. "We should have been born as one person." Tegan shook her head.

"I would miss you. . ."

"You wouldn't know you missed me. I'd be you. In you," Sara said, tired. Tegan didn't buy it.

"I'd know." Sara snorted, a little, and sighed.

"Tegan, you're such a fucking sap," she said, wearily. Tegan snorted too.

"So are you, but you try to hide it," she said. Sara was leaning back into Tegan's body; Tegan kissed her behind her ear, smelling her hair.

"Well, at least I try," Sara said back.

"Why bother?" Tegan chuckled. "I'm the one who's there when you. . . stop trying." Sara bit her lip.

"I love you so much," Sara said quietly, incredulously. "It kind of sucks." Tegan laughed.

"Nah, everything else does." There was a moment where Tegan kissed her ear again, her neck, and they were quiet. Then Sara sighed, stirred.

"We should go to the back of the bus before Tony comes. . . we have to be on the road in like. . ."

"Yeah," Tegan said, releasing Sara. They helped each other get up. Jamie saw them pass by the little opening in her curtain; she saw Sara's face, flushed and still shining with tears, as she lay in her bunk, her head throbbing, her heart aching, as the door closed at the back of the bus.


	33. You Were Packing

**Author's Note: ...aaaaaaaand we're back! With some minor changes. :)**

**Chapter 17 - You Were Packing**

Whatever happens, there's usually a point with Sara where the window closes and that's it. I mean, maybe something happens and she wants to talk about it and wants to communicate and so she does, but it's usually not long before she clams up again. So we went to the back of the bus and she'd stopped crying so that moment where it was all open and raw had passed. It was all scabbed over and after a while it would be a scar that she wouldn't talk about. So when she's with me and she's talking, I'm there. I need to be there. Because it won't last and then even though nothing's fine and nothing's fixed and she's still hurting over it, it'll be like she just wants to hurt about it by herself in the dark. I'm not like that. I feel like if I talk about it enough I'll find the solution even though I'm not sure if I ever actually do. Twins are not really ever the same. Nobody should think they are.

So now it's only mid-afternoon but I'm so tired that it feels like the sun should be setting. Sara's tears have drained me, and trying to find a way to make her feel better about something that just can't be better has drained me too. I didn't cry but I feel like I did. We lay down on the bed together and she closed her eyes and I watched her face as she pressed it all down again, stopped crying, her jaw set again, refusing to feel how she felt because she didn't like feeling that way. Well, I don't either, but that's just no solution. She was tired too from all the tears so she fell asleep, and now she's breathing softly beside me and I'm lying on the bed, gazing up through the skylight while there's still daylight. In a while we'll be in the Chunnel and then there will be no more light.

I wonder if Jamie is asleep too. She probably is. I wonder what it's like for her to be in her bunk up in front while we are in this huge bed together in the back. It can't be easy. I hate the idea that anything I do is hurting her, and it must be, but I don't know what else to do. Seriously, she's pretty fucking unlucky to love me at all. My mind takes me back to last night, kissing Jamie and running my fingers over her chest as Sara pushed her thighs open. And Jamie let her, she let her do it just so she could have me there kissing and touching her again, because when else would she ever let Sara do that to her? Why else would someone like her let herself end up - literally - smack in the middle of a mess like this? I knew it was just for the chance to be with me again, which makes me feel so guilty, even though in the end I think it's pretty safe to say Jamie didn't really seem to mind anything that Sara did to her. I mean it's completely fucked, really, and I know it. We all know it and that's why Sara and Jamie haven't said a single word to each other all day. They're embarrassed and why wouldn't they be? I don't even know how to count all the ways that last night was fucked up. But I may as well not pretend that it wasn't hot, that it didn't excite me because it did. It obviously excited all of us and that's why it happened, after the accident with the cupcakes. It's shocking to me, too, but I've been with both of them without the help of drugs or alcohol so none of it was as drastically foreign to me as it was to them, I'm sure. Even with all of those mojitos in me, it fucked my head up to see Sara go down on Jamie. I hadn't done that. But Sara did. It fucked my head up and it made me want them both at the same time. And so then I think of that and I remember Sara's lips on me too and it makes me shiver a little in that big bed while she sleeps. That was an obstacle for us and we needed tequila and whisky and rum and a sexy American girl to get past it.

I turn my head to look at Sara's face while she sleeps, the tension gone from her forehead, from her jaw, so she looks soft and sweet like I know she is and I have to touch her lips with my fingers, just for a second, because they are just there and so soft and she's so fucking beautiful and it's okay for me to say that because she doesn't really look like me. So I touch her face and she doesn't wake up. She and Jamie are the same in that way. In Vancouver, one day, I woke up before Jamie and I put my hand on her stomach, and she didn't wake up. So I rubbed her stomach and she didn't wake up. So I kissed her neck and she didn't wake up. I kissed her lips, her chest, and she didn't wake up. I kissed her belly and she didn't wake up. I started laughing, and she didn't wake up. I thought about doing something else just to see if she'd wake up, but that seemed kind of over the line so I didn't.

God, so many insane things have happened over the past year, I can't even keep it straight in my head. On the way to Vancouver, my head had been fucked and I knew, I could feel how close I was to kind of losing it but my plan was to keep it together while Jamie was there. Well, so much for that. If I had managed to keep my shit together for those two weeks, so much would be different now. It really was like a slippery slope from the moment that she sat on the edge of my bed and I grabbed her hand as she got up to leave. She was nervous and sad and wanted to help and if I'd just been quiet she would have walked out of the room and left me alone because she didn't know what to do. But I didn't want her to go. I needed someone, I wanted someone warm to be with me, and she was sweet and I thought that she seemed to care about me and maybe she could just stay close and I was just so fucking sad, would it be okay to just have a sweet girl hold me? A sweet girl who had loved me and quietly followed me from city to city for years, would it maybe be totally fine and not at all selfish to have her hold me in my fucking bed while I cried my guts out and then just see if maybe she could get out of that situation unscathed? But I guess if that had been as far as it went, I wouldn't have to feel too much like I was selfish.

But where was my head that next morning? I can remember pretty well how I felt then. I was a mess in the sense that at any moment I thought I would fucking burst into tears again, and the ache in my chest kind of kept reminding me that I might be in the middle of losing everything that mattered to me in my life and if I wasn't in the middle of losing it, I would be soon enough. And it was already like half of me had been surgically removed, but not like in a nice, sterile, first-world hospital, but like in a medieval prison hospital. Half of me had been removed using some kind of vicious, rusty garden implement. I mean, I know it's a bit extreme and unbalanced but my brain works this way: as soon as there's a crisis, I immediately start assuming the worst and so if Sara says to me, this has to stop, then my brain goes to all these crazy places and comes to all of these crazy conclusions like, I will never see her again and she doesn't love me and she doesn't need me and she doesn't want me and then I'm a fucking sick twisted monster and I'm all alone, and I've destroyed my family and I've lost my sister, my SISTER and half of my goddamned fucking soul. That's what my brain does. And so that's how I had been feeling the night that Jamie put her arms around me and I cried against her chest and she was warm and gentle and I could feel her and smell her and there was some kind of chemical reaction in my brain or something because the next morning I saw her there and it was like i'd never looked at her properly before. . . and I wanted to touch her and so I did.

I don't know if it was a decision, exactly. It was more like an impulse. Like an impulse in slow motion. I'd watched her face for a few minutes while she slept. I don't know how long but for a while. I had time to think, honestly. So I can't really say it was purely an impulse because I just lay there and watched her while the impulse to touch her kind of swelled up in my guts. So I totally let it happen but I didn't really think about it. I didn't think about how unfair that really was. But I guess I can defend myself by saying that I didn't really know that she loved me. She hadn't told me. I guess I suspected something but what I suspected was only a portion of the truth.

And so then she woke up and she was surprised and nervous and awkward to find me lying there looking at her. It must have been a bit confusing. She turned red almost immediately. There's something pretty intoxicating about being close to someone, to someone new, to someone new who feels something for you and you kind of realize they do even if you don't know exactly what it is. And something had happened in my heart during the night because she was so gentle, and then it was suddenly like, fuck, you're beautiful, and you like me, and I'm fucking lonely and sad, and if a normal girl likes me, I don't know, maybe I can be normal and sane and do what normal sane people do. And when I recall it now it is kind of like I watched myself get on top of her and say those words and then kiss her and I half-expected her to be really shocked or like push me away, I don't know. In retrospect that seems almost funny because I literally cannot even imagine her pushing me away now. I mean, even though the situation is so fucked and she knows about Sara and understands about Sara, it's like she will still not push me away, even though sometimes she probably should. She will still accept me, all of it.

So I don't know if it was like I wanted to touch her, but then I kissed her to see what would happen but she didn't push me away. She was kind of too surprised to really do anything, though, but there's a lot you can feel about what is happening to someone while you're lying on top of them. Like the first moment I kissed her, I could feel her kind of suck in air and then stop breathing. Well, it was exciting, and in a moment I almost forgot about all the shit that had made me fucking cry all night. You feel someone's lips and you feel their body and their warmth and all the thoughts go away, and her warmth started to fill up my entire body. Her hands touched my hips and that is not a neutral place to touch someone. When you touch someone's hips, I think, it shows something, doesn't it? So I kissed her again and then after that, holy fuck, she was completely, obviously really hot but also kind of overwhelmed and shy and I'm not going to lie, that was hot and cute and pretty great for my ego. And yeah, I guess I was also kind of playing games with her because everything I did had such an effect on her, and I admit I loved it. I put my hand up her shirt and pressed it against the centre of her chest and she was breathing all funny, erratically, and her heart was like racing, I could feel it against my hand. Because of me! I mean it's pretty incredible to have that effect on someone, like, for the person to be so affected by your touch, just by your nearness, that they can hardly even say or do anything. I slid my hand softly over her breast and she stopped in the middle of her sentence. And so while she had this look on her face like she might pass out, I watched her as my hand moved down her body and into her underwear.

Well and I didn't think about it at the time but she didn't really give me permission, did she? Like I didn't ask her and she didn't say anything to let me know that it was okay. I mean, was it proof that it was okay when my fingers found how wet she was? Is that proof that she wanted me to touch her? I guess I can say that I sensed that she wanted me to touch her. And I know I wanted to. I wanted to touch someone who wanted me and who didn't fill me up with poisonous guilt and shame. Compared to how I'd been feeling about Sara and our sick fucking mess, touching Jamie felt like such a pure and innocent thing. It might not have felt like that to her.

And so I touched her and she hardly moved but there's enough in a person's face, in the way they breathe, in the sounds they make and their hands on you to tell you what you need to know. And I was struck by the way she kissed me. Because when Sara kisses me, I can feel all of the same need that I feel, and all of the struggle that comes with that. Sometimes, when she kisses me it feels like she's angry with me for making her want to kiss me. But the way Jamie kissed me was more like she wanted to tell me ten thousand things and she would only have one chance so she didn't know what to say first. I can't explain it. It moved me though. Because it's like the way you see something that is so beautiful that it kind of hurts your heart to know that some day that thing will not exist anymore? Or when you hear a song and it fucking stabs your guts out but you can't explain why it does and that feeling you have when you need someone to understand something and you just can't express it? What the fuck am I talking about? I mean it sounds completely arrogant for me to say all of that but believe me, it surprised me to feel it. It surprised me to feel that kind of intensity from someone when they had never said or done anything to really let me know it.

And it also surprised me that she came so fast. . . but maybe it shouldn't have. I think back to the first time I felt Sara's fingers; I remember how I came in what seemed like seconds, every sensation in my body completely out of my control, overwhelmed, my heart pounding, breathless. . . and the comparison fills me with a sympathetic ache because maybe that's how she felt about me? Almost, anyway? And when she grabbed the front of my shirt and pressed her face against my shoulder to hide her face, to stifle her voice, it completely squeezed my heart. I called her sweet after and she was so fucking shy, it killed me, God. And I didn't need anything right then and didn't need to be touched because somehow I just felt satisfied and wanted to sleep.

I did it for me, really, if I'm totally honest. I didn't really know how she felt about me, so I was really just taking each step and waiting for a rejection and each time I didn't get a rejection, it was like I felt a little less sick. If I'd known then what I know now, I don't know what I would have done. Part of me hopes I would be a good enough person to keep my hands off of her if I knew that she was in love with me and knew that Sara owned so much of my heart that all I would have left for anyone else would be scraps. But I still don't know if I'd make a different decision because there's something between Jamie and me that keeps me connected to the real, sane world. And she doesn't demand anything from me, doesn't make anything harder for me, and loves me even though she knows how fucked up and twisted I am. That and all the rest of it makes me love her too but it's sad and unfair that I can have her whole heart and she can only have the vacant bits of mine. I shouldn't have ever put her in that position. . . but if I'm going to tell the truth about it, I would probably do it again.


	34. On My Floor

**Chapter 18 - On My Floor**

"And what's that?" Johnny asked for the sixth time, coming up behind Jamie as Ted and Shaun ducked into a bakery and the girls waited.

"Umm, that one is a bank," she laughed.

"Seriously?" Johnny asked incredulously. Jamie grinned at him and nodded.

"He thinks every building is some kind of like, monument," Tegan laughed, focusing her camera on another building on an adjacent corner.

"Yeah, while you take pictures of every alley and apartment building," Sara pointed out wryly, quickly and accidentally making eye contact with Jamie before reddening and looking away.

The other two boys emerged from the bakery and they continued on, stopping now and then to marvel at commonplace things and take photos. Ted sidled up to Jamie as she followed some distance behind the girls.

"This stuff is so good," Ted said to her, tearing off a chunk of his pastry. "It's got raisins and some kind of like, custard or something in it. . ." he offered the brown bag to Jamie, who tore off a piece.

"Ohhhh, custard," Sara said, looking back over her shoulder. Ted offered the bag to her as well and she stopped and took a bite. "Mmmm. Why does everything taste better here?" she wondered.

"It's Paris. It's psychological," Ted said.

"No, I think it's true. I had bread with ham and cheese and it was like the best thing I've eaten so far this year," Shaun said as they rounded a corner. Ted glanced at Jamie and raised his eyebrows.

"Everything okay?" he asked in a low voice. Jamie shook her head.

"I think we have an unspoken agreement to pretend it didn't happen," she muttered, concentrating on her shoes. Ted nodded.

"Okay, so what is that?" Johnny gaped, pointing at the enormous building up ahead and twisting around to see Jamie as she looked up.

"That's the Hótel de Ville," Jamie told him, and he blinked.

"That's a hotel?" he asked, and she shook her head, smiling.

"No, it's like city hall," she explained.

"It's so. . . it's like someone was like, here's a trillion dollars, spend every penny of it on this building," Sara said with a laugh. "Like, spend more money on decorating the outside of this building than several small countries' national budgets combined." They took some photos there, and at Notre Dame just a little further down the way, where Johnny stopped and insisted that they needed to take a picture of the hunchback. Across the river, Sara nearly had a stroke when she discovered Shakespeare and Co, so they all went in, enduring the surly attitudes of the young expat staff while the girls browsed the shelves, and Sara excitedly picked up a vintage copy of Ulysses. Jamie and Sara continued to avoid each other's eyes as they looked around in the shop, and after as they made their way to the Rodin museum.

"I don't remember who it was," Jamie started as they navigated their way through the exhibits, "but a critic or someone called Camille Claudel something like 'a reversal of nature: a woman genius.' Not sure of the quote but it was something like that."

"Damn. Why couldn't we live in that era?" Tegan added. "We could wear corsets and not be taken seriously."

"Yeah, she was such a great artist in her own right but her work was basically forgotten until like the 80s," Jamie said, stopping to gaze on another sculpture.

"So why is her stuff in the Rodin museum?" Sara asked.

"She was Rodin's apprentice," Jamie explained, "and then his mistress. They had this intense, secret affair, but. . . him with his reputation to maintain. . ." she saw Tegan quickly glance at Sara out of the corner of her eye; Sara refused to look back at her. "In the end, he wouldn't leave his wife for her. The legend is that she lost her mind over it. . . that her despair pushed her over the edge and she went insane, and died wandering the streets of Paris." She paused and looked around the bright, airy room, the windows wide open and their curtains waving in the wind as tourists quietly peered at the sculptures on pedestals scattered throughout the room on creaky wooden floors. "This was his house, Rodin's house. This was actually, like, the actual place where all of this passion and all of this, like, misery happened. Right here. And now, I mean, all of these people just walking around probably don't even know what happened on the floor they're standing on. It kind of blows my mind." Sara and Tegan listened to her attentively, glancing around and nodding. "And like, this," Jamie continued, gesturing to the bust of a man on a shelf nearby, "she sculpted this. Of him. Rodin. When he loved her. When they loved each other. And that one over there," she pointed to a sculpture of a woman's head across the room, and the twins' eyes followed her gaze. "He sculpted that one of her. They sculpted each other. I mean, how fucking romantic is that? A lot of these," she gestured around the room, "are sculptures by both of them, like, some of each of their most famous works are about their relationship." It suddenly struck Jamie, the obvious parallel between that and Tegan and Sara's career. . . two artists, their entire body of work secretly about each other. She wondered if they were thinking the same thing. She glanced at Sara, who was frowning, brow furrowed, and thought she might be.

She moved to another statue of a woman on her knees, grasping for the hand of a man as an evil-looking figure pulled him away. "I mean, this one is called L'Implorante. . . 'The Imploring One.' It's her begging him not to leave her." Tegan's voice echoed in Jamie's head as she was left alone, in the darkness of the hotel room, in the moonlight in the barn: 'Sara. . .'

"I mean, it's just so sad," she continued quietly. "It destroyed her. This young, talented artist, and for what? She just fell in love with the wrong person. A century later, who would have cared if Rodin had done something socially unacceptable and left his wife to be with a woman who was like, his equal, his soul mate? Maybe it would have been a big deal then, but now. . . it would be entirely forgotten."

"Such a waste," Tegan said. "So sad."

"Exactly. What could be more tragic than wasted love?" she added softly, standing next to Tegan. Tegan nodded. "And more than just tragic, it's like. . . a crime." Sara, in spite of her shame, gave Jamie a surprised look, and in spite of Jamie's own embarrassment, she returned Sara's look, and then wandered off after the boys, leaving the twins to ponder on their own, the memories of century-old screams echoing throughout the quiet, sunny room.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Merci!" Tegan thanked the crowd halfway through the set, and patted herself on the back as the crowd cheered their approval of her single word of French. "Oh, thank you. I don't know if you know this but we're from Canada and-" there were more cheers. "Oh, well, thanks. But don't cheer yet. What I wanted to say is that Sara and I, and Ted and Johnny and Shaun are all from Canada and we are technically a bilingual country-"

"Yeah, technically is the right word," Sara put in.

"Well, I was going to say that because like we all study French in school and Sara has lived in Montreal for like a hundred years and she can't speak French at all. The only person with us who can speak French really at all is Jamie, our videographer. Who's like, American."

"So embarrassing," Sara said.

"Especially for you. I mean, why can't you learn French? What's wrong with you?" Tegan asked Sara to the laughter of the crowd, and the occasional shout of support for Sara.

"Well okay, I haven't been able to learn French but you haven't been able to learn to, like, not to like make fun of people with learning disabilities." Tegan laughed. "Like, earlier you were mocking me for having asthma and now for my learning disability-"

"Come on-"

"No, it's good. It's better that they have this, like, they have a chance to see what a bully you are and how abusive-"

"Yeah, but I wonder if any if them saw what you did to my face a few months ago," Tegan started. "Did you guys see my black eyes and broken nose, that I got from my sister who is calling me a bully right now?". Several members of the audience shouted their affirmation.

"Come on, it wasn't broken-"

"It still shows that you are the bully in this relationship and not me," Tegan pointed out. Jamie laughed out loud, turning the camera to Tegan.

"Okay, let's change the subject," Sara responded. "I want to dedicate this next song to. . . someone who's in the room tonight because. . . okay. . . have you ever like, gotten drunk with a friend and then things kind of. . . went too far? Have you ever had that experience? Is that something that happens in France?" There were hoots from the crowd, as Tegan gave Sara a shocked look, and quickly glanced down at Jamie, between the barrier and the stage, camera trained on Sara. Someone in the crowd shouted, "Who?" "Never you mind who. That's not important. What's important is that I had a drunken experience with this person and ever since then we've both been, like, we've been mortified, or like, horrified. . . it's like, we can't look at each other-"

"Tell us what happened!" came an enthusiastic shout from the crowd, followed by cheers of approval. Sara looked in the direction of the loudest voice, shielding her eyes from the stage lights.

"I think you know, I mean, you have a general idea of what kind of thing I'm talking about. I just want to dedicate this song to this person and let him or her know-"

"Him or her," Tegan repeated, shaking her head.

"I want to protect her identity. Or his," Sara added quickly, while the crowd hooted suggestively. "Okay, well, everyone knows I'm a giant queer so don't, like, congratulate yourselves too much for like, cracking that mystery. I mean, you don't have to be Columbo to figure out that if I got wasted and made out with someone, that person would be a girl." Tegan laughed, shrugged at Shaun who laughed too, while Ted smirked down at Jamie.

"I don't know about that. Get enough drinks in you and it evens out to like, fifty-fifty," Tegan contributed. Sara laughed about that too, addressing some appreciative shouts from some of the male fans.

"Haha, that guy was like, yes. I have a chance," Tegan laughed. "Like, your being gay was like, the only obstacle."

"No. I'm off the whiskey for the rest of the year," Sara said. "Maybe track me down early next year and we can talk." More whooping and cheering. "Anyway. All I wanted to say is, it's no big deal. Like, maybe we should lay off the alcohol in the future but I think, in a little while, I'll be able to make eye contact with you again. And eventually, we should be able to speak again." Sara was careful not to look at Jamie, which was a relief to Jamie, as was the darkness that hid the redness in her face. "So this one is for you, you know who you are."


	35. My Eyes Were Charting

**Hey all, sorry for being so schizophrenic... thanks for your patience! Hopefully everything is staying the way it is after this. ;) And thank you all for re-following the story! :D **

**Chapter 19 - My Eyes Were Charting**

"Where's Jamie?" Sara asked, sitting down on the foot of the bed and unlacing her shoes. Tegan, lying on her back on the bed, put her book down on her chest and gazed over at Sara as she pulled her sweaty stage t-shirt off and replaced it with a fresh one. Tegan felt a jolt at the sight still, just as Sara still felt a moment of hesitation before she undressed in front of Tegan.

"She went out to get something to eat with the boys," Tegan replied, her eyes drifting over Sara's milky skin as she pulled off her skinny jeans and replaced them with a pair of loose shorts, and she kept watching as Sara lay down next to her.

"Why didn't you join them?" Sara asked, kissing Tegan's neck and laying a hand on her belly.

"I'm not feeling so great. Which is something you should know before you start kissing me and making me all hot," Tegan said with a laugh.

"Oh no, are you getting sick?" Sara asked as Tegan put a bookmark in her book and set it aside.

"Nah, it's shark week," Tegan moaned. "I feel like I'm being disemboweled with like a giant hook."

"Awww," Sara said sympathetically, softly rubbing Tegan's stomach. "Do you need Advil or something?"

"Do you have some?" Tegan asked, and Sara got up off the bed and went quickly out the door. She was back a minute later with a glass of water and two capsules. She sat next to Tegan and handed her the glass and the capsules. Tegan sat up, popped the capsules in her mouth and drank.

"Thanks," Tegan said, her look slightly puzzled amusement.

"Lie down," Sara said. "I'll rub your belly." Tegan lay down without saying anything, her eyes on Sara's face as Sara lay next to her and tenderly rubbed her aching abdomen. "Does it help?" Sara asked after a moment. Tegan smiled, and nodded. "It would probably feel better if you. . . like. . . took off the super-tight jeans as well. . ." she unbuttoned Tegan's jeans, pulled the zipper down. She slipped her hand under Tegan's shirt and continued rubbing her belly.

"That's better," Tegan said, with a smile.

"What are you smirking about?" Sara asked as Tegan watched her face.

"I'm not smirking," Tegan said.

"Something is, like, amusing you," Sara said, meeting Tegan's eyes and then looking back to her task of massaging Tegan's stomach.

"Not amusing. We. . . I've. . . you know, I've been having cramps since I was thirteen and like, this is the first time. . . this has ever happened," Tegan said softly. Sara blushed slightly, continued rubbing in slow circles. After a moment, she spoke.

"I wanted to, though." Tegan watched Sara's face.

"You did?" she asked. Sara nodded, her eyes averted. Tegan lifted a hand and pushed Sara's long bangs back out of her eyes and tucked them behind her ear.

"There were lots of times. . . sooo many times. . . when I wanted to. . . touch you in like. . . in like a way that I just. . . couldn't." Tegan's eyes on her still.

"Me too," Tegan said softly. "I can't even. . . I don't even remember the first time I felt like I wanted to. . . be naked. With you." Sara lay her head on Tegan's pillow, her hand continuing its gentle motions.

"Me too," Sara said with a sigh. "I mean. . . I feel like we were naked together in the womb and like. . . we were pressed up against each other like that and we grew that way and. . ." Sara sighed again, heavily. "It's just kind of. . . it's like, unfair that we were made that way and then like. . . society or whatever. . . tells us we have to be something different." Tegan nodded. "I don't think we can. Be something different. I think it's impossible." Tegan lay her hand over Sara's, on her stomach.

"Yeah. How many times do you think we crawled into each other's beds as kids and cuddled up together?" Tegan wondered. Sara snorted a little.

"Not only kids. I mean, we still did that until. . . well. . . probably like fourteen?"

"Yeah. And every time, I wanted to like, crawl under your clothes with you." Sara met Tegan's warm gaze for a moment before moving closer and kissing her lips for several slow seconds.

"You know what Jamie said to me?" Sara said a moment later, as she smoothed Tegan's hair back from her forehead. "She said maybe we were trying to put ourselves back together. Back into one person." Tegan smiled.

"Wow. That's. . . kind of a beautiful way to look at it," Tegan said, thinking it over and swallowing.

"Yeah. God, Tegan. . . she is so in love with you," Sara said rather suddenly, tracing over Tegan's cheek with her fingers. Tegan's brow creased for a moment, and she nodded. " Like all the. . . everything she said in the museum was just like. . . even with how she feels, she was saying. . ." Sara started and stopped.

"She was saying. . . not to waste it. This. . ." Tegan started. "I feel like she was trying to say a lot of things, that I don't exactly know how to like. . . I don't know," Tegan stumbled a little and stopped. Sara nodded, understanding anyway.

"And like. . . in a hundred years, or whenever, nobody will remember us and it won't matter about. . . maybe like. . . maybe nobody will care what we. . ." Sara's face reddened and she shook her head. Tegan watched her eyes, nodded.

"Yeah. . ." Tegan murmured. They were quiet for a moment before Sara went on.

"I mean, poor Jamie. Isn't it, like, it's so unfair, what I. . . what we're doing to her. Isn't it? I mean, the other night. . ." Tegan bit her bottom lip. "I mean, it's fucked up because like. . . that was like. . . good, for us, you know? It helped us. Because like. . . I wanted to, um. . ." Sara lost track of her sentence, looked away.

"Me too," Tegan said. "I wanted to. . . all of you." Sara blushed again, remembering, waited for the words to pass.

"But like. . . it's not fair to her. How can that not hurt? Like, she loves you so fucking much that she'll like, she'll just like do whatever. . . whatever you want. . . whatever. . . to be with you. . . like God, it makes me want to cry." Tegan sighed sadly, Sara's words once again echoing her own thoughts.

"Maybe we should lay off the mind-altering substances for a while?" Tegan suggested. Sara nodded, frowning slightly.

"Tegan, have you and Jamie like. . . I mean, except for the times when, uh, I was there. . .?"

"No," Tegan said. "Only in Vancouver." Tegan's eyes were on Sara's. Sara looked relieved, for a moment, but still sad.

"I try not to get jealous because like. . . I don't have any right to be jealous and. . ." Sara took a deep breath. "And because it would just be. . . better to be with her. Better for you." Tegan's look was all seriousness.

"Maybe so but. . ." she shrugged, her face fell.

"Pandas and coconuts?" Sara asked softly and Tegan smiled just a little.

"Yeah." Tegan rolled on her side facing Sara and they put their arms around each other and pulled each other close. "I mean. . . it's weird to think of it. . . to think that I like, I would. . . I would want to be with her if. . . things were different and like. . . it's so. . . I mean, she's so many things I would want and I really care about her and she deserves like. . . like all of my heart but it's. . . not. . ." Tegan frowned, pondered. "It's like. . ." she started, raising her left arm and turning the inside of her forearm to Sara. "If I wanted another tattoo here. But like, I have this one already. It's too late." Sara nodded. "I mean it's not the best analogy," Tegan admitted.

"I've heard better," Sara laughed softly.

"Yeah but it's like, you know. . . I'm. . . taken. I'm yours." They looked at each other, neither of them making a joke about the reference.

"You could be with Jamie if I were dead," Sara murmured and Tegan squeezed her tighter.

"That's not funny," she said.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," Sara pointed out.

"I would want to be dead, too," Tegan said.

"You'd get over it," Sara suggested, slightly flippant.

"No. I never, ever would. I would be broken and I would suck out all of Jamie's happiness and eventually break her heart because I would die too and then she'd be alone."

"You wouldn't die," Sara disagreed.

"Well okay, just imagine it. Imagine I was dead. Just take a moment and really imagine it. Do it right now," Tegan said intensely, moving her face back and looking Sara in the eye. Sara frowned. "So, now I'm dead and now you are free to have a normal relationship with a normal girl, and be happy. Right?" Sara shook her head and pulled Tegan into another tight embrace. She pressed her cheek against Tegan's and said nothing. "See?" Tegan went on. "Right? It just doesn't work. It just doesn't."

"No," Sara whispered.

"No," Tegan agreed. They stayed like that for a long time.


	36. Every Move You Made

**We miss your comments! You all still there?!**

**Chapter Twenty: Every Move You Made**

They had their five minutes of band-only alone time after the show in Munich, so I found a quiet place to plug in my laptop and upload some videos. That's where I was when I heard Sara's voice, and looked up reflexively, before I had time to remember to be embarrassed.

"Hey, Jamie," Sara greeted me with the ironic-humourous voice she sometimes adopts when she's embarrassed. I was reminded of her _oh, good morning, Jamie _from a few days before, with a tremour in my guts.

"Oh- hey, Sara," I heard myself mumble, closing the screen on my laptop.

"Feel like walking with me to the pharmacy down the street? I want to pick up some weird German stuff and some Advil for Tegan." She sounded easy, deliberately so, but her face was reddening nonetheless. I was sure mine was too, and in that moment, I felt her lips again, and her warm skin as I recalled my hand stroking over her chest.

"Uh, sure," I said, futilely trying to push away those thoughts as I set my laptop down and got up. I followed her out into the chilly night air. There was a long enough stretch of silence, as we walked side-by-side over the cobblestones, to intensify the embarrassment to the point where I couldn't stand it.

"So, um. . . what kind of weird German stuff?" I asked, trying to keep my mind off of the memory of her hands on the inside of my thighs. The harder I tried to keep my mind off of it, the more vividly it struck me. It was funny in its own way to feel a little bit of electricity now next to Sara, when I had never felt that way before.

"I don't know, like, chocolate, gum, candy. . . stuff like that, with weird names. Like I once got some chocolate from Poland, and it was called _Fart_," Sara explained with a laugh. I laughed too.

"I don't think I'd want to put that in my mouth!" I said, only a half-second before the reflex to stop myself kicked in. Thinking of what had recently been in Sara's mouth, I bit my tongue and was glad to be on a dark street.

"Yeah, it was still chocolate, though," Sara pointed out.

"This is true," I said, feeling like an idiot. There was more silence as we passed an enormous church, bathed in an amber glow. We gazed up at its spire silently. After we had passed it, Sara spoke.

"So, what do you think? Is it more awkward to like, pretend it didn't happen, or to like actually talk about it and then, I don't know, try to like. . . get over it?" I felt something twitch in my stomach and I was entirely unsure of the answer.

"Uh. . . I guess it's better to, um. . . talk. . . but I, uh. . ." I started, then stopped, glancing at her face, patterned with high-contrast shadows and warm light from the streetlamps. In a second's memory, my mouth was on hers as she whimpered, shuddered and came with Tegan's head between her legs. The image was at once hot and confusing. I couldn't reconcile the Sara I had known - the Sara who was at times reserved, at times funny, but almost always a little hard to read - with the Sara whose tongue made _me_ come as Tegan's tongue pressed against mine.

"Well, uh. . . it's pretty awkward, eh?" Sara laughed, and I laughed too, a little, nervously, as we crossed the street and carried on.

"Haha, yeah," I agreed. I wished I could just relax and say something to make the tension go away, but I honestly couldn't. If I was the kind of person who could do that, I probably wouldn't have been tense in the first place.

"I guess it's because you and I don't have, like, that kind of. . . like, I mean, you probably didn't feel like this after you and Tegan, um. . ." Sara trailed off, as though halfway through her sentence she decided she didn't like the way it was shaping up. I laughed again.

"Uh, well. . . that was pretty awkward, too," I said, nervous still but feeling the rush of warmth inside of me at the recollection of it. It was garnished with a nice amount of disbelief that I was talking with Sara about having sex with Tegan. And her. With Tegan. I could almost see Kim's blank stare as I imagined telling her, which would never happen.

"It was?" Sara asked, with such a note of curiosity that it was endearing. It was like she was trying not to be bothered.

"Uh. . . so much. So, so. . . incredibly. . . awkward," I said, irritated with myself for feeling so flustered over this conversation.

"So how did you get over it?" Sara asked. "I mean, if you. . . if you know some kind of like, trick or. . . haha. . ."

"Uh, I don't think I _am _over it," I said, surprising myself. "I mean. . ." Part way through that attempt, my throat started to feel tight. "It's still pretty surreal. . ." For a moment I thought I'd mumbled too quietly and that she hadn't heard, but she nodded and took a moment. We passed through a little square with a fountain in the centre, saying nothing. There was a sculpture in the centre of the fountain and I thought of the sculpture we'd looked at together, at the Rodin museum, and wondered if Sara had given any thought to my words. I hadn't expected it, but standing there with the two of them, the day after watching Sara break down in tears over the possibility of her mother finding out about her relationship with her sister. . . I hadn't expected it but I was struck with the feeling that there was something so profound about their love for each other that the idea of wasting it seemed to me like a crime.

"Yeah. . . so. . ." Sara started hesitantly as we crossed the square and continued up a narrow lane. "So I hope you don't feel like. . . I think. . . I was just kind of realizing that we kind of like. . . took advantage of you and how you, um, feel. About Tegan-"

"No," I said quickly. "I don't think that." I hated the idea, suddenly, that she thought that.

"No?"

"I think we all, uh. . . wanted to do it and we all got something out of it and. . . the alcohol just made it, um, easier." All of those words flooded out at once, before I could stop them.

"Yeah," Sara said after a while. "You're right, I think."

"Maybe we should give the cupcakes and cocktails a break," I laughed, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat that was conjured up by images of the warmth in Tegan's dark eyes, the softness of her lips. Without cocktails and cupcakes, would I ever feel her lips again? But with them. . . it was all getting too hard to take. I couldn't decide, there, in the alley in Munich, which way was better. But I knew, whatever I decided, if Tegan approached me with a cocktail, I wouldn't hesitate. But if she didn't. . .

"Yeah, maybe," Sara laughed. "But can we like, try not to be embarrassed? I mean, it's just sex, right?"

"Uh, true," I said, laughing. I'd been in bed with the two of them, together, and she was calling it _just sex. _I'd had _just sex _and it wasn't like that.

"I mean, so what, right? It was good. We were drunk and we got each other off and so what?" Sara's bluntness reminded me of moments on stage where she would say things that made Tegan cringe in horror. I remembered her going on and on about masturbation while Tegan almost crawled out of her own skin.

"Haha, uh. . . yes."

"I mean, it was good, wasn't it?" she went on, her confidence suddenly bolstered.

"Yeah," I admitted, nodding. I seriously couldn't lie about that.

"But we. . . I'm sorry," she said suddenly, and I looked over at her. "I'm sorry because. . . all of it must be. . . hard. . . with like, because of. . . how you feel. . . about Tegan." I felt alarmed momentarily about the turn of the conversation; if Sara was going to talk about me and Tegan, I couldn't be sure I wouldn't cry, and I didn't feel like making an idiot of myself, in a pharmacy in Munich, in the middle of the night, with Sara Quin. Her voice, though, was a gentler version of her. I felt, again, the weird connection I'd felt with Sara that night in Vancouver when we sat on the bench in front of Tegan's building, and the woman in yoga pants had walked her French bulldog around the fountain while Sara and I both wept.

"Well. . . yeah. But. . . it's hard for all of us, isn't it? I don't think. . ." How could I answer? How many hours would it take us to get back to the bus if I said all I wanted to? Sara sighed.

"I think. . . Tegan needs you," Sara said seriously. I could see the pharmacy sign glowing up the street.

"She needs _you,_" I replied.

"But I cause her. . . so much pain," Sara said quietly, and the words created a tightening in my chest that made me take a breath.

"Well, the situation does," I said, as her eyes flickered up to mine, momentarily. She opened the door of the pharmacy and I followed her in, and she quickly found the candy aisle. We looked at foreign names, unfamiliar wrappers, mixed in with _Mars _and _Hershey _and _Snickers._

"Yeah but. . . you don't," Sara said. "You don't cause her any pain." I shook my head, swallowing, as Sara picked up a bag of gummy bears and a few other weird foreign products, and I followed her up and down the aisles until we found the one with the headache tablets, muscle relaxers, and so on. "Does Tegan have a headache?"

"Cramps," Sara said, locating the Advil and taking a package of blue gelatinous caplets from the shelf. She looked over at me and laughed. "So weird."

"What, talking to me about this while buying painkillers for Tegan's cramps? What's weird about that?" I joked, and Sara's eyebrows shot up before she laughed.

"I don't know. Nothing, I guess. Pretty normal. Maybe we could like, compare notes," Sara suggested, grinning.

"Oh wow."

"I mean, it's a pretty funny thing to have in common," Sara went on.

"Hilarious," I said, the wave of sadness lapping at my knees. It was converging on me, then, of all times and all places, at 1am in that pharmacy. We weren't drunk, and we had experienced something and learned something and we wouldn't be drunk like that again, I felt certain. And in the sober, fluorescent light, that night, it felt like a conclusion to me, and I felt something slip away. I saw Tegan laugh silently, with her head back, and I tried to hammer the dents out of my heart before it collapsed entirely. Sara looked at me then, at the wrong moment.

"Oh, Jamie, I'm sorry-"

"No, no," I started quickly, "I mean, it _is _funny," I tried to say, but just as the word _funny _crossed my lips, the tears spilled over, and it was too quick and I couldn't stop it in time and Sara's face, taken aback, her brows knit together. Her mouth dropped open a little.

"Oh, God, I'm such a jerk," she said and I shook my head dismissively, determined to get my shit together before it got worse but knowing that lines like that would make me lose it. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes for a moment. "God, I mean, your heart must be like. . ."

"If you talk. . . like that. . . I will fucking cry right. . . here. . . in the pharmacy," I said, forcing myself to sound flip but my voice was shaking.

"You're already crying," Sara pointed out helpfully, with a sympathetic laugh.

"Helpful," I chided her, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

"God, I'm sorry," Sara said.

"Can you. . . just. . . not say sweet things for a minute? I would like to not cry in front of you-"

"Too late," Sara said, her smile a mixture of cheek and sympathy that reminded me so much of Tegan that it made my nose start to run.

"Fuck, you're just like Tegan," I said, with a wet laugh. I sniffled. Sara laughed too.

"Good one," she said.

"Why aren't we in the tissue aisle?" I complained, as Sara pulled out some napkins from her pocket.

"From the bakery at breakfast," she said, handing them to me. I wiped my nose.

"God, I feel stupid," I said.

"Why?" Sara said with a frown. "You've had the most fucked up year ever, and you've cried, like, I don't know but I've seen it happen twice." I nodded. "Only twice? Well fucking kudos, dude," Sara laughed. The way I missed Tegan in that moment twisted my guts into a tight, aching knot. "Here, have a gummy bear." Sara tore the bag open and held it out for me. I took a few of them, sticky and tender, and chewed them as I got myself together. "I mean, really, you're like. . . you're pretty awesome. Come here," Sara said, surprising me, taking a step towards me with her arms open. I walked into the hug as she stood up a little on her toes to reach me and returned it, trying not to get snot on her shirt this time. "I'm sorry we've totally fucked up your life." There was laughter in her tone, but gravity behind it. I shook my head as she squeezed me, trying to remember what life had been like before they started fucking it up. I drew a blank.

"I'm okay," I said thickly. "Tegan fucked up my life the first time I saw her, so. . ."

"Oh man, shit. Seriously. You're so unlucky for meeting us."

"Haha, yeah. . . kind of," I said, only half-joking, and she gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Let's get this stuff back to Tegan. Gummy bears and Advil are the only way to fight the monster," Sara said. I smiled back at her, still blinking quickly.

"You bought gummy bears for Tegan," I said. I'd thought they were for her. A sudden surge of affection for her filled me up. "That's pretty fucking sweet." Sara blushed as she placed the stuff on the counter and handed some money to the cashier.

"Yeah, well," she muttered shyly.

"You're pretty sweet, aren't you?" I teased. She snorted.

"Yeah, I'm fucking delightful," she said ironically as we left the shop and started back.

"You are," I agreed.

"You sure you don't want to compare notes?" she asked comically.

"Haha, oh God. . ."

"Like, Tegan likes it when you put your fingers-"

"Holy Jesus," I said, my face burning.

"Does she top you?"

"Sara! I can't . . . I. . ."

"Yeah, she does, doesn't she?" Sara went on, using the present tense, as though it was something ongoing, something that could happen again, a given. I laughed, embarrassed, shaking my head.

"No? Aha! Femme in the streets, butch in the sheets?" she laughed, nudging me with her elbow.

"I'm. . . I'll. . . can you please. . . um? Ah. . ." I stuttered. Sara was completely getting the better of me and I hated it.

"I should have known. Tegan is such a fucking sap," she said, and I laughed, nodding in agreement. "You know. Look at you! You know. You've seen it. You know."

"God, I. . . she's. . ." I sighed, in spite of myself. I remembered the morning in Vancouver when she brushed a sticky strand of hair back from my forehead. _You're sweet, _she'd said. My throat started closing again. "Yeah," I finally said.

"Yeah," Sara agreed. For the rest of the way back, we talked about gummy bears, Advil, and not about Tegan.


	37. I Threw Away the List to Convince You

**OH MY GOD! IT'S THE LAST CHAPTER OF PART II! Holy cow, how did that even happen?! The more comments we get, the faster we'll put up the beginning of Part III! *bribes* Tell us what you loved, what you didn't love, your favorite parts, and everything else! Thanks for sticking with us on this crazy awesome journey!**

**Chapter Twenty-One: I Threw Away the List to Convince You **

I've always considered myself a pretty self-aware person. I mean, I think I've always been able to look back on my actions and kind of evaluate my own motivations for things and at times I've been aware that my actions have been irrational, or unfair, or unkind, and I've thought about why I'd behaved that way and how I might want to act differently in the future and so on. So, after the walk back from the pharmacy with Jamie, after feeding a handful of Advil to Tegan and watching her fall asleep, I thought about Jamie and what had happened that night and other nights and I asked myself certain questions. For instance, what had compelled me to pull Jamie on top of Tegan that night when we were all accidentally high on cupcakes? What on earth had I been thinking? Or even better, what had made me push her legs open while Tegan kissed her? I had said to Jamie that it was _just sex_, and _it's no big deal_, and there's a pragmatic part of my brain that really believes that, but the pragmatic part of my brain has always simply pretended to be in charge. The fact is that it shocks me that I did that. It shocks me on a number of levels. But as I lay in bed next to my sleeping sister, I give it some serious thought and the things I come up with are nearly as shocking as the act itself.

Where to start? Part of me was just carried away with everything. We were drunk and horny and things kind of snowballed to the point where I doubt any one of us was taking the time to think anymore. So it was hot because it was sex and because it was new, and let's not try to even pretend that people don't like to watch. It was a surprise to me how hot it was to _be _watched, too, especially by someone who was watching me and Tegan and looking like she wanted to jump us, instead of looking like she might throw up, which is really what I would expect from anyone. So it was sexy and there was curiosity and the excitement of kissing someone new and being touched by someone new and _touching_ someone new. So all of that is fine but if I am honest with myself, there were other aspects to what I did that were a lot less innocent. Did it bother me to think that Tegan and Jamie had had sex in Vancouver - a lot of sex, from the sound of it - and I wasn't there and I didn't know what happened? Was I jealous? Did it make me jealous that Jamie had experienced something with Tegan that I couldn't see, that I didn't know about? I have to admit that it did, that it triggered this side of me that was just possessive and jealous and insecure. And I don't think it would have bothered me that much if it had been _just sex_ but I know that's not all it was, and even when I asked Tegan about it, she couldn't just say that it had just been meaningless fucking. If Tegan had just been meaninglessly fucking Jamie that would not have bothered me that much. I've done my share of that. But knowing that it wasn't just fucking, but that Tegan's heart had been somehow involved in the situation, and seeing that they had some kind of intimacy together, well, that triggered something in me. I talked to Tegan about it and I saw them together and I figured certain things out and I admit that I wanted to insert myself into that situation somehow, and make it less like something Tegan and Jamie shared that was private and intimate. I knew that Tegan hadn't gone down on Jamie because she'd told me, and also, yeah, Tegan and I hadn't gotten to that point yet because we were both hung up on it. But mostly me. I was really the brakes on that particular thing. We both wanted it, but it doesn't matter how hard you try to fool yourself, when you put your tongue in the holiest of holies, there is no way you can talk yourself out of your guilt. You can't rationalize that into something else. And so I'd wanted to get between Tegan's legs like you can't possibly imagine, but the amount of shame and self-loathing I felt over wanting that was like an equal and opposite force. . . so it didn't happen until we were all drunk and Jamie was there to make things seem okay, and make it seem like it _wasn't_ about just me and Tegan.

So then I just had to go down on Jamie, too. If I could do that when Tegan hadn't, then I guess I'd just taken away some of the cozy intimacy that they had, and I'd made us all into fuck buddies and I'd removed some of the specialness that they shared. Or I felt like I had. Like, fuck, Jamie is in love with Tegan. Yeah? So she's cute and she's a sweet person and Tegan has feelings for her too and it makes perfect sense that they would want to be together, and unlike our situation, Tegan can sleep with Jamie and not even feel guilty about it. How can I compete with that? With something as shameless and kind of innocent as being with someone like her? I mean, the thought of it made me feel like I was fucking lost at sea. It's unfair of me to think and to act that way but it was simple, old-fashioned jealousy. I was afraid that they were not just fucking each other but that Jamie was fucking goddamned _making love _to Tegan, as much as that fucking expression makes bile rise up in my throat, and that she was doing it and fixing her and why would Tegan want to continue to suffer in this fucking fiery lake of guilt and shame with me when she could have that? So yeah. How about if I get everyone drunk and I go down on Jamie and then it isn't the two of them on one side and me on the other but the three of us and a mess. Great! That seemed so much better.

Yeah, of course that's not all it is. I mean, I have reason to believe that I am pretty good with my tongue, and there's the enormous satisfaction that comes along with making someone come that way, and we all know that. But now I will always be the first of us to do that, and when Tegan does that to Jamie, they will both be thinking that I did it first. They'll be thinking of me. And that makes me kind of realize that I stole that from them, and before you think I'm just a manipulative bitch, I'll let you know that I do feel bad about that. I feel bad because I like Jamie, and because if the world was fair and if things made sense and if Tegan and I were normal, they would just be together and I'd be happy for them. So it's not her fault that things are this fucked.

And on top of all of that, she was also like a doorway for us, and that's something that is truly fucked but when Tegan and I were alone, and Tegan made tentative steps towards going down on me, the sick twisted feeling rose up in me and I panicked and stopped her. But if Jamie could be there and see it and not be disgusted, that meant it was okay. I could make that okay in my mind, if I added enough whisky to the equation. And now that I'm sober and now that I have gone down on Tegan and I've opened my legs for her and then I did it to Jamie and we all saw it happen, I really can't believe I let that happen. I mean, what is more intimate than letting someone do that to you? And then, what could be more intimate than letting someone watch it? So our biggest fan watched me put my tongue inside my sister. And then I did the same to her. And maybe that is still fucking with my head and in my sober state I'm not ready for any of that. And so I invited Jamie to the drug store and I kind of accidentally-but-not-accidentally reminded her that Tegan can't just drop everything and be with her because Tegan and I are stuck, together, and there's nothing anyone can do to change that. So maybe I kind of made Jamie cry a little bit on purpose, but when it actually worked, I did feel like a fucking jerk. Maybe I am a jerk and there's that cliche, _all's fair in love and war_, but Tegan and I go beyond an act of love in the same way that two hydrogen bombs wiping out two entire cities goes beyond an act of war.

So blah blah blah there's nothing I can say to eliminate the fact that I have fucked around and manipulated people. And it's one thing to fuck around and manipulate a sweet person that you like. But how about the fact that I've fucked around and manipulated Tegan as well? I lay in bed looking at her with that pineapple pillow clutched to her aching belly and I just feel like a fucking asshole. And I think of Jamie and feel like an even bigger asshole. I'll take a little comfort in the fact that it was fucking hot, and we all enjoyed it, and that Jamie obviously wanted to kiss and touch Tegan again, and she got to. So it's not like she didn't join it willingly. But right now I'm lying next to Tegan while Jamie is watching a police drama in the living room area, by herself, and she's probably thinking of Tegan and you know, she probably wishes she were able to come back here and rub Tegan's belly instead of me, but she keeps her distance and leaves us alone when we need to be alone even though it must hurt her to not know where she stands. So as I lay here I realize that I don't want to be that manipulative person. I need to apologize to Jamie, I decide. I need to apologize to both of them, and try to be the kind of person who _deserves_ Tegan's whole heart.

We were just outside of Berlin when I made that decision. The sun would be rising in a few hours, and before it would set again, everything would change.


	38. Those Windows

**No more teasing... holy shit, here we go.**

**Part III: If I Move Away**

**Chapter One: Those Windows**

When I was in third grade, my best friend Abby and I went for a sleepover at the home of Sophia, a girl who we both silently agreed was cooler than us, and so we were excited to have been invited by her. Sophia's mother drove us to the local Pizza Hut for dinner in her mini-van. There were six girls and Sophia's mother, so there were six witnesses to my friend Abby's loss of bladder control. I don't know exactly what led to the urinary calamity in the local pizza place, since it was clear that I couldn't ask, but I know that even now, Abby has an aversion to Pizza Hut that is so powerful that she won't even eat delivery pizza from Pizza Hut. I think, years from now, that is how I will continue to feel about Berlin.

We had half a day free in Berlin; the girls, the band and I did a cheesy city tour with a stop at the Berlin Zoo. We all learned of Ted's aversion to snakes, which was so intense that he lingered outside of the reptile house, shivering, while the rest of us went in. Johnny stayed to watch the monkeys for ages after we'd moved on to the next environment, and his adoration for the monkeys was matched by Tegan's infatuation with the penguins. The penguins were cool, no doubt, but every time one of them dove from their little artificial rocky beach into the water, Tegan nearly lost her mind. Sara and I laughed at her, and I wondered for how long, and in how many varied circumstances, Sara and I would share moments like that; she looked at me, gave me a slight roll of the eyes at Tegan, and I smiled back at her. I hung back for a few minutes to look at a solitary Siberian tiger, sprawled out lazily in his paddock, and was startled by Tegan who crept in next to me.

"Does he remind you of something?" she asked with a warm grin. I smiled back at her around the little pang it gave me. She had gotten a cup of frozen yogurt, which she offered. I took her spoon and ate a scoop of the yogurt; she watched me taste the familiar pineapple, her smiling eyes on my eyes, wandering down to my lips. She leaned in close and gently reached out a hand to wipe away a bit of yogurt from the corner of my mouth with her thumb. She looked back to my eyes and gave me a little smile as her thumb softly stroked my lips, causing my heart to lurch and skip, before she rushed off to share her yogurt with Sara.

Back on the city tour bus, Sara sat next to me and when I tried to dismiss her apology for what had happened in the drugstore - for which I didn't think she needed to apologize - she repeated her apology with an intense look, and hugged me. So I accepted her apology, and we spent the rest of the tour sitting behind Shaun and Tegan on the bus and talking about the Berlin wall, the shadowy stones of the Holocaust memorial, and the underground bunker where Hitler had killed himself. It was a good afternoon. Everyone was in good spirits. Everyone was friends again. We were looking forward to the show that night, a sold-out engagement at a nicer venue than they were used to.

We arrived at the venue less than an hour before the band was scheduled for sound check. Backstage, there were people in and out: members of one of the opening acts, a few friends of the band and the girls, a writer from a local magazine, road crew, managers, and others I didn't bother to keep track of. I was sitting on one end of a sofa, looking over some photos on my laptop. One of the girls' managers, Piers, was on the other end of the sofa with his laptop. Tegan was talking with a local magazine writer and I don't know how the interview had gone up until that point, but something drew my attention to them at that moment. Perhaps it was his tone, that edge of excitement in his voice when he asked it, a hint of sadism perhaps. I don't know. But when those words left his mouth, the air was sucked out of the room and I think everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up.

"So, I have to ask you, to give you this, how can I say, opportunity to say something to your fans, in your own words. . ." the journalist began, with a slight smile, sitting on a stool across from Tegan. My stomach was already clenching when I saw Tegan's expression, at first blank, and then her brows contracted, puzzled.

"About. . .?" she started.

"Well, about the video, of course!" he started, his accent twisting the word into _wideo_, but it didn't matter. It was clear enough. "A _wideo_ which is you start to make sex with your sister. I think your fans are so. . . how is it. . . curious to hear about that."

I can't tell you what happened to my stomach in that moment. I slowly closed my laptop, but I felt like I'd been plunged into ice water. Tegan's face had gotten suddenly very pale and Sara, who'd been in the middle of a Scrabble game with Ted, looked over, quizzically and then tense, when she saw Tegan's face.

"What the fuck did you say?" Tegan started, her voice trembling slightly, as the little journalist's reptilian enjoyment intensified.

"Oh, you haven't heard? The video has been posted last night on the YouTube and now there are so many thousand of -"

"Get - what the - who - I need you out. You need to get out of here. Now," Tegan said, standing. Shaun and Ted were up as well, approaching the journalist.

"It's time to go, I think," Ted said, handing him his bag as Shaun moved in next to Tegan. I glanced quickly over to Piers, who sat there, quietly, curiously, opening YouTube on his computer.

"Don't you want to make a statement to your fans-" the journalist went on, as he was being helpfully led to the door by Ted.

"You need to shut up," Ted said, opening the door and, in a gesture more aggressive than any I'd ever seen from Ted before, shoving the slim, smug young German through the door.

"On YouTube, search 'barn sex, Tegan and S-" And the door slammed. Ted turned, looked from me to Tegan.

"Barn sex?" Piers said with a laugh, shaking his head while he typed those words- I saw it - typed the words into the search field.

"Piers, don't-" Sara started, her voice tight, panic mirroring the pale shock of Tegan's face. Piers clicked on the video and looked up at Sara in surprise. And then to Tegan.

I could hear the voices on the video and without looking, I knew what he was seeing. I knew because the video camera had been in my numb hands when it was recorded. The face of the girl, the girl in the camera shop, flashed through my mind and her smug grin, no longer a mystery.

"Tegan, what is. . ." Piers started, but stopped, his eyes on the screen.

Ted mumbled something to Shaun and Johnny, who looked confused, worried, but silently filed out of the room behind Ted, somewhat reluctantly.

"The description says. . . thanks to Jamie for the great footage. . ." Piers started, dumbfounded, looking over to me at the other end of the sofa. My stomach dropped even further as I looked up to Tegan, whose eyes met mine, blank. "What is this that I'm watching?" Piers asked. Shockingly, he started the short clip again, from the video, and turned the computer around on his lap so that Sara and Tegan could both see it. I was frozen, numb, as they looked, only for a moment. Sara's eyes closed; Tegan lunged forward, grabbing the computer from Piers' hands.

"Piers, that's not - it isn't - it isn't what it looks like," Tegan stuttered. "It's not. . . it isn't Sara. It's. . ." Tegan looked like she was going to throw up. She was not in any state to sell her lie, and Sara's eyes, glossy, fell on me.

"Jamie, did you make that video?" she asked, her voice remarkably level, almost soft. My throat felt like it was closing. I was dizzy. Everything was starting to sound muffled and the skin on my entire body tingled as the dread in my chest flattened my lungs, my heart.

"I didn't. . . _make_. . . the video, it was. . . I. . ." I choked, listening to myself try to make a sentence.

"How is- did it- did you put that. . . on YouTube?" she asked, her pitch starting to rise. My heart was racing in my throat.

"No! Of course I didn't-"

"Who? Who put. . ." I glanced over at Tegan, who was looking at me, wide-eyed.

"The. . ." I managed, "it must've been the. . . the girl at the. . . shop, the camera shop. . ."

Sara lunged at me, one hand stretched out to grab me, to strike me, I don't know. I leapt to my feet more quickly than I thought I was capable of, but Piers was there and he caught her. She strained against him, flailing, struggling to push his hands off of her, her face redder and more furious by the second.

"You. . . you. . . _fuck_!" she screamed as Piers held her shoulders, holding her back. "What. . . what have you. . . what. . . you've_ fucked us_! You've fucking. . . oh my God, _you fucking bitch_!" Sara wailed, fighting for several more moments before losing all resolve and crumpling in Piers' arms. Tegan, suddenly, dropped to her knees in front of the coffee table and opened the laptop, frantically clicking and, after a few moments, she covered her face with her hands. I was very nearly hyperventilating. Sara stood, stooped over, with her hands on her knees, gasping for breath. Piers rubbed her back.

"Can someone please explain. . . I mean, it can't be. . ."

"No!" Tegan cried out, suddenly, her face flushed, her eyes wild. "It isn't. . . it's not. . . you know that's not, possible, I mean. . . Jamie! Tell him!" Her eyes were on me, filled with terror, panic, disbelief.

"It's not Sara," I said quickly. "It's Casey." For a second, a hint of relief flashed across Tegan's face, as she looked to Sara and Piers.

"It really looks like Sara," Piers said, almost laughing. His mind was not prepared to comprehend what he'd seen, and what he was seeing now, as the girls fell apart.

"Casey really looks like Sara," I said, desperately. Piers looked from me to Sara.

"If it's not Sara, then why is Sara crying?" he asked. Sara looked at me, her face red and wet with tears. "And why is Tegan crying?" They stood there, stunned. Tegan covered her mouth, shaking her head frantically, in tears as well.

"Oh God. . . oh my God," Sara said again, covering her mouth too, turning quickly and starting for the door. I recalled the way Tegan had looked in her bedroom before running to the bathroom and throwing up.

"Sara, wait!" Tegan cried out, jumping up and reaching for Sara's arm. Sara recoiled, in a panic.

"Tegan, don't _touch_ me!" she yelled, pulling away and rushing out. Piers ran after her, leaving me alone in the room with Tegan.

For a moment, Tegan stood, looking at the door, like she'd been slapped. Then she turned and looked down at the computer screen, where she could see the screen-cap from the "barn sex" video.

"How. . ." she whispered, looking up at me with red, wet eyes. "How could you do this to me?" In all that I'd seen, I'd never seen her look this devastated, this destroyed. And it was because of _me_. My knees almost gave out.

"Tegan, I didn't. . ." I breathed, reaching towards her.

"You _didn't_?" she repeated in disbelief, stepping away from me.

"I wasn't-" I tried to say, desperate to explain, to make her understand, all the while feeling like it wasn't _quite_ real, like it couldn't _really_ be happening and that I would just wake up in a few minutes, with a kink in my neck from sleeping funny.

"You _recorded_ us. . ."

"I turned it off! No - I didn't - the camera was - I didn't-" the dread, panic, and horror were multiplying inside of me, all at once.

"And now it's on _YouTube_. . . and. . . there are. . . over twenty thousand hits," she said.

"I deleted - you don't - no - I'm sorry -"

"Everyone in the _world_ is going to see it! Our _mother_ is going to see it! Our _mother_! Oh my God, oh God. . ." Tegan cried, one hand clutching her stomach, the tears streaming down her face even more heavily, her eyelids fluttering as if she were trying to stay conscious as her other hand clutched the back of the sofa for support.

"It was - an accident," I said, but my throat felt so tight that my voice was not much more than a whisper.

"An _accident_? An accident that you _recorded_ us when we . . . when we were. . . _alone_, and that you didn't _tell_ me, after everything! _Everything_!" she shouted, the volume and hysteria in her voice increasing with each word.

"No! I. . ." I whimpered. She had a point. I'd told her about the hotel but I hadn't told her about the barn. Why hadn't I?! "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please. . .I deleted-"

"You're _sorry_! _Sorry!_ Well I'm sorry that you fucking. . . you fucking _spied_ on us!" she ranted. "And sorry that you _videotaped_ us and you fucked up _so bad_ that now the video is somehow on YouTube! And I'm fucking sorry you didn't fucking delete the file after you _accidentally_ recorded us, before you, like, fucking, _gave_ the fucking _camera_ to some fucking. . . oh my God. . . oh my God. . ." She was screaming, sobbing. She looked like she would be sick. She slid down the side of the sofa to her knees, covering her face with her trembling hands. I felt sick, too. I wanted to escape. I wanted someone to rescue me. I wanted to cry.

"No! I'm sorry! I just, I went up in the loft to look around and I heard -" She righted herself, swiping her tears away angrily with her sleeve.

"You fucking _watched_ us! On purpose!"

"No! I. . . I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Tegan, please, I'm so sorry -" I whispered desperately.

"You're sorry again! Oh my God, fucking stop it with the sorry!" she spit out. "What the fuck does it matter that you're sorry?! We're _fucked!_ It's _over_! _Our career is over!_ _ Our lives are over!_ _ Our family_. . . oh my God, you've _destroyed_ us! It's all over! EVERYTHING!"

"No, Tegan, please-" I begged, swallowing the stomach acid in the back of my throat.

"Shut up!" she screamed hysterically. "Shut up! Just stop it! I fucking _trusted_ you. . . with the most. . . the most. . . and you have _destroyed my life! Everything I have!_ My life, and _Sara's_ life. . . what are we going to do now? What, Jamie, WHAT?! It's all over. . . it's _over_. . . I'm sorry I ever fucking _met_ you!" Those last words, drenched in rage, a fist to my guts. I don't think I did anything when the tears started. I don't think I even noticed. My mouth opened, but nothing would come out. I couldn't breathe. She stared at me for another moment, the pain in her face more than I could bear to look at. My hands were shaking, my whole body was shaking. Her face crumpled again, and she choked back a sob into the cuff of her shirt before she turned and ran out of the room.


	39. These Eyes

**Haha oh my God, wowwwww, we LOVED reading your responses to Chapter 1! It seems to have produced a lot of tears, some screaming, a lot of swearing, and at least one person smoking out of aggravation and another falling asleep in class the following day. Now THAT is how we know we've been successful! ) Man, we wish we could be there watching while you all read that... we would have loved to have seen it happening in real time.**

**Part III: If I Move Away**

**Chapter Two: These Eyes**

All three stalls are empty. Rush into the nearest one, lock the door and immediately start throwing up. Vomiting always makes me feel like I'm going to die. I'm crying already so my eyes are running and my nose is running and after retching for a few minutes, all that comes up is bile.

When all the throwing up is finished, I know, I still can't come out of the stall. I don't want to see anyone. I don't want anyone to see me, except for Sara, but right now I don't know if she will ever touch me again. I don't know if _anyone_ will ever touch me again. My most terrible secret. . . the worst nightmare of my entire life. . . everything I've dreaded since I was old enough to know that what I felt was wrong, abnormal, sick. . . is coming true. Every terrifying scenario that kept me awake all these years in the room next to Sara's is finally all coming true and collapsing on me, just like I always knew that it would, no matter how hard I tried to believe that it was all okay.

I slide down the wall of the stall and onto the cool tile floor, quick shallow breaths, dizzy. Thank God nobody is in the other two stalls. Where did Sara go? She recoiled from me and ran and why? Because of a video. Because of Jaime. Jaime's stunned face comes back to me with a wave of nausea and I think I might throw up again but instead I lean my head against the cold metal of the stall wall and close my eyes.

It's over. Our mother will see the video and she'll be destroyed. My father, my stepfather, my aunts, uncles, my cousins. They'll be disgusted, humiliated. They will wash their hands of us. At least our grandmother didn't live to see what her granddaughters would become. Our fans? We'll lose all of them, except the perverts. Our career will be finished. Nobody will want to work with us ever again.

Our mother will see the video.

Sara, pulling away from me. Gone again. Lost again. And I'm lost. Again.

God, Jaime. I think of Jaime again, shut my eyes tight. I can't think about her right now because thinking of her right now cuts my insides. God. A fucking video camera. A file on a memory card and now my whole fucking life is over. How could she have done that? How? She was watching when me and Sara. . . when Sara. . . fuck. It comes back to me now, vividly, Sara pulling her fingers out of me, leaving me, my pants pulled down around my thighs so that she could. . . the rough hay underneath me, me lying there alone, crying, . I feel a wave of humiliation wash over me that anyone saw that, even Jaime. God, Jaime. . . how could she? She was the safest place I'd ever felt other than Sara. Sometimes even more than Sara, because I'd known that she could never leave me, hurt me, break my heart like Sara could. Like she had. But _this_. . . humiliating me in front of the world. . . I swallow a bubble of acid in the back of my throat.

"Tegan," comes Shaun's voice as I hear the washroom door swing open. "Are you in there?" My voice almost responds but when I open my mouth, I have to stifle more sobs. One gets out anyway and I sound like a dying animal. Everyone in the world is going to see it. Everyone in the world is going to see Sara fall on top of me and press against me in a pile of hay. Shaun is going to hear me crying in a public washroom and then he's going to see the video too. "Tegan?" he asks, and his voice is just on the other side of the stall door. "Okay, I can hear you in there. You don't have to say anything. . . I just want to know if you're okay." He's a nice guy. He hasn't seen the video yet so he's still my friend. For now. I'm going to be sick again, maybe?

If I tell him I'm okay he will go away, but my voice is drowning, in tears and snot and I'm shaking, I can't do anything.

"If you don't say anything, I'm climbing over this door," Shaun says, a little intensely. I start to answer him but I can hardly breathe now with the trembling in my chest. "Okay, you're not okay," I hear him mumble, and there's a moment of rattling and shaking in the walls of the toilet stall and his shadow moves over my feet and I look up and he is really, literally climbing over the wall. He sees me and looks shocked. "Jesus," he says, and slides down my side of the wall and now I'm in a toilet stall, in a bar, with a boy. In the women's washroom. With my bass player. "Hey," he says, gently. He's a gentle guy. He doesn't know yet that I'm a fucking freak so he's still gentle. I'm doubled over on the floor because I feel nauseated again and he squats down next to me, next to the toilet, his hand on my back. He's trying to look in my eyes. I just can't. "Hey, what happened? What's going on?" I guess he's still not believing what he heard. He doesn't believe it because it's fucking insane, fucking repulsive. My life is over. Where is Sara? Pain, just pain.

I can't answer him. I open my mouth and then just shake my head because I can't tell him. I hide my face against my knees again and the sobs come even harder and I nearly choke with each one. Even the sobbing makes me feel sick. He rubs my back.

"Whatever it is, it'll be okay. . ." he says. "I mean, nobody's dead. . . it's nothing that can't be sorted out. . .?" His words would be reassuring if he had any idea what he was talking about. Which he doesn't. It occurs to me that it might be better to be dead than to wait and see what happens next. It would be better for my mother to have a dead daughter than a fucking twisted sick freak as a daughter.

I think the sounds I'm making are scaring Shaun. He's trying to say soothing things but his voice is tense. He puts his arms around me in this stinking toilet stall and I resist him only for a moment, before I collapse against him and let go.

. . . . . . . .

I feel like I might be sick, like I felt in Vancouver when I found out that Jaime knew. And this is worse, so much worse. . . so horrifically worse that I just can't even accept it. So I need to find a place to throw up and I need to lose Piers. He's following me; he's seen the video; he knows what we are and I don't want to hear what he's going to say. I can't take it. Whatever it is. I need to go somewhere with no one, where no one will see me, maybe forever.

I tried to hit Jaime. I'm angry he stopped me. I wanted to strangle her. I still do. I would if I could. I don't know if I care what kind of person that makes me.

And now what? I can see Tegan's eyes as she reaches for me and I panic and pull away from her. And I think I can feel my heart die because I will never be able to touch Tegan again. Not like that. It is this sickness of ours that has led to all of this, that will destroy our family and destroy our band, cost us all of our fans, bankrupt us. Our mother will see the video. Our _mother_. Our mother will see it and know that her babies are sick and fucked up, and her heart will break.

I make my way quickly through a few narrow corridors and out the back door, with Piers just behind me.

"Sara," he calls after me, and I don't know what he's thinking now because he saw the video and now, what does he think? "Sara, stop." I don't stop. I am almost running as I cross the parking lot behind the venue. I don't know where I'm going.

"Go away, Piers," I say, angrily because I'm trying not to cry and talking makes that impossible.

"Sara!" he says, closer. He's tall; his legs are a whole lot longer than mine. "Where do you think you're going to go?"

"Piers, fuck off!" I scream over my shoulder, feeling the hysterical kind of tears rising up inside of me and I run, leaving him behind.

I don't know where I am and I make a couple of random turns, just running. And then I see a little city park with a fountain, a public washroom, some trees, benches. A few people look at me, concerned, as I race by, probably because I am streaming tears and my nose is running and I look insane. I pass by them and find a sheltering tree to collapse under. It's mossy and soft, a bit damp, and I drop to my hands and knees. I'm gasping, wheezing, my heaving breaths from running colliding with the hysterical sobs I'm trying desperately to repress and for a second I think I will suffocate or puke but then I don't. I lay down, my face in the soft, cool moss, struggling to breathe. Maybe I can stay here. Maybe I can die here, under this tree, like the tree on Tegan's arm, which I touched in the moonlight in the back of our bus and thought I could be happy for a moment. I'm a fucking idiot and it's all over. I stuff the sleeve of my hoody into my mouth and scream.


	40. Don't Worry

**Took a while to get this one right. Enjoy! Or... well, there's really not a whole lot of enjoyment here, but yeah!**

**Part III, Chapter 3: Don't Worry**

I stood there, stunned, numb, for a few seconds - I don't know for how many - and then Ted came back in.

"Jamie, oh my God, what happened?" he asked, quickly stepping to me and putting his arms around me. The intense sting of Tegan's words collided, in my heart, with the relief of Ted's arms around me and I burst into tears. "I saw them all leave. . . What happened? What's going on?" he asked, worried, as I sobbed against the shoulder of his soft flannel shirt, utterly incapable of speech. He squeezed me tight, which was good because I felt like I might fall, just as Tegan had started to fall when I helped her out of the tub, a few months back, before she'd first tried to tell me about Sara. The memory of that made me cry even harder, and I clutched Ted's shoulders, wanting to disappear into them. He held me like that until the sobs diminished and I was left with shuddering breaths.

"It's my fault, Ted, it's all my fault. . . oh my God. . ." I whimpered.

"Shhhh, no. . . it's okay. . ."

"I did this to them, it's all my fault. . . I'm so sorry. . ." The tears were creeping up on me again as I tried to push them down.

"Shhh, you don't have to be sorry, we'll figure it out, okay?" he responded, and I wanted so desperately to believe him but it was impossible, and even if the situation could somehow be squashed, swept under the rug, nothing would ever let them be like that in front of me again, nothing.

"She said. . . I fucked up her life. . ." I started.

"She's just upset," Ted said, soothingly.

"She said she was sorry. . . she'd ever met me," I finished, and his face looked so sad I almost felt sorry for him, except that I had no room for that.

"Oh no," he said.

"And she's right. I've done this. . . I've fucked up everything, oh my God," I told him, struggling with the nausea, the crushing guilt, the tremours in my chest.

"You. . . I mean, how did- ?" he asked, but the tears had started again and I couldn't respond.

"I didn't. . . I can't. . ." I tried but it wouldn't come out in any way he could understand so I gave up. He put his arms around me again.

"Sara's run off somewhere. Tegan's locked herself in the washroom." he said. "Come on, let's go back to the bus."

I wasn't able to say much to him as we went outside. He walked with me, and when I started to cry again, he walked with one arm around my shoulders. Inside the smaller bus at last, I sat, stunned, in the kitchen area. Ted fetched me a bottle of water and sat across from me.

"I went for a walk," I started, in weary disbelief, unable to even identify all the sources of the pain in my insides. "There was a barn. . . I went up into the loft. I wanted some night shots and. . . it was just. . . I was curious and I went up with the camera running and I heard voices." Ted opened the bottle for me and pushed it across the table. I took a breath. "I saw them. . . I didn't even notice the camera was still on for a few seconds and as soon as I did, I turned it off. I deleted it, I deleted the file but. . ." I couldn't finish. I pressed my lips together to stop everything from spilling out and shook my head.

"Hey, Jamie-" Ted said gently, as I felt myself start to lose it again.

"And the. . . that fucking. . . bitch. . . at the camera store must have. . . searched for the file. . ." I cried, hiding my head in my forearms, folded on the table. "And Tegan was. . . Tegan said. . ." I couldn't finish. I felt Ted lay one hand on mine and squeeze it.

"I think. . . maybe you should go talk to Tegan again? You guys can figure out what to do. I mean, it was an accident. . ." Ted said. I said nothing, did not raise my head, but I somehow started to breathe, and became quiet. "Don't you think? I mean, she's. . . you know, you guys have. . . uh. . ." Ted didn't finish. "I think. . . she didn't mean any of that. . . I know she didn't . . ."

"She hates me," I murmured into my arms and it hurt that it was true, but it hurt more that it was my fault. I felt more warm tears leak down over my wrists. Me and my fucking camera, we had done this. My trusty companion that had gotten me into this was also going to end it.

"She doesn't," Ted disagreed.

"You. . . didn't see her. You didn't hear. . ."

"She was just. . . emotional. . . she'll regret what she said. . ." I shook my

head against my forearms. "She's just scared, or like. . . I mean. . . it has to be really scary." I said nothing, but cried quietly for a while longer and Ted sat, squeezing my hand. If Tegan was scared, that was my fault too. My mind tortured me then with memories of the two of them on stage, sharing stories, jokes, making the crowd laugh, and each other. I thought of moments I'd seen from the audience, moments they shared with hundreds of people, so beautiful and good and all of that would be over. I thought of years of just aching to know them, to be close to them, wondering what they thought of me, hoping that they liked me, wishing I could be more than just another fan, and then finally - unbelievably - having and knowing all of those things. I thought of them on the bus, when Tegan lay with her head in Sara's lap and Sara tenderly smoothed her hair back and Tegan assured her it was okay, it was just the two of them and _me_, so they were _safe_. _Kiss me_, she said, _it's okay_. They were safe with me, they trusted me, it was okay. They had those moments with me sitting there, filled up with an unexpected and overwhelming affection for both of them, for what they were together, to each other, even though not having Tegan was a painful blow to my heart. Because in a way, I still _did_ have her. I had her trust, her friendship, and maybe even some sort of love. And I had those days when I almost felt like she really was mine, alone together in Vancouver, and all of her quiet smiles ever since, and now the memory of all of that is a searing, gaping hole, because I destroyed it, fucking smashed all of it forever.

I needed to try again. I needed to find Tegan. I had to fix it. Tegan had to be fucking terrified. If Sara had run off then Tegan needed me, she needed _someone_, I couldn't just leave her alone. I needed to stop crying and go back there and try, at least, to put something back together.

When I could finally breathe again, we walked back to the venue in tense silence.

. . . . . . .

I cry like that, against Shaun's chest, for a while and feel like a fucking girl but it's hard to care. After a while, it finally stops and I can almost breathe. I just feel stunned but I'm glad the fucking bawling has stopped because my head aches and my eyes are starting to swell shut. It must be time for soundcheck and then, will we be going out on stage in front of hundreds of people who have seen the video of us kissing, pressing into each other in the barn? What then? Will they throw things at us? Will they tear us apart? I can't even imagine leaving this stall, let alone going on stage.

I thank Shaun and ask him to give me a minute, so he leaves and I'm alone in the stall again. The numbness is deepening. I don't think I'll cry again but I don't want anyone to see me, my puffy eyes, my shame. I don't want to look at someone and wonder if they've seen the video, seen Sara kiss me, deeply, fall on top of me, when everyone knows what happens next whether the video captures it or not. Our mother. Online every day, googling us. . . she'll see it. She probably already has.

I close my eyes and lean against the wall again. I'm so tired. Can I sleep here? Maybe I'll just stay and they will all go on without me and I can just be forgotten.

And then the door opens again and I don't expect what I hear, but I hear it.

"Tegan," says Jamie's timid voice, on the other side of the door. My stomach clenches, my eyes sting. No fucking way, I'm not going to cry with her there on the other side of the door. God, my heart. I can't take it. "Tegan, I need to. . . explain," she starts to say, and I can hear that she's struggling. God, I'm going to throw up. Or cry again. Or both. Don't say anything, no more words. No more. "I didn't. . . spy on you," she goes on, my heart pounding in my throat, and it aches, I can't hear any more. "I didn't think. . . the camera was on. . . when I noticed it was on, I turned it off. I deleted the file. . ." I can feel the tears coming again, God damn it. I cover my mouth with the sleeve of my hoody. I don't make a sound. Don't make a sound! "But, it was. . . I didn't reformat the card. . . the girl in the shop. . . she would have had to. . . like. . . search for it. . ." Her voice, she's crying too. God, fuck, why is this happening? I want something to happen to make this all over. An earthquake? A fire? I need something to happen to stop it, to make it not matter anymore because something worse is happening. I can't think of anything worse. Her voice, so miserable, I've never heard anyone sound so sorry. Stop talking. Stop. She didn't mean to record it. She deleted the file. The fucking girl at the fucking shop. . . if I could murder her, I would do it right now. What the fuck was Jamie doing in the loft anyway? Did she keep watching us after she shut off the camera?

I can't say anything to her. I don't want her to hear me cry. She's seen it before but she was a different person then. I was a different person. She loved me even when I was a monster and yes, I loved her even when my heart was broken. Now it's all over, everything. I trusted her. I can't ever trust anyone ever again.

"Tegan, I'm sorry. . . I can't even. . . describe. . . how sorry. . ." her voice is desperate, imploring me. I can't say anything. Go away, everyone go away. If Sara was with me, we could just die together and it would be over. I'm sure she wishes she were dead right now too. In fact, I'm sure of it. "I'll do anything. . . if I could. . . anything, to fix it or. . . anything you want me to. Please just tell me. . . what to do. . . and I'll do it. . ." she's saying, but her voice cracks, she takes a breath. My heart, my guts, my God. ". . . that I never thought. . . if I'd ever thought this could. . . ever happen. . ." She loses track of her sentence. Her voice is shaking. "I'm sorry, I'm so so, sorry." There is silence because I don't answer, because I can't. There is part of me that wants to accept her apology and open the door because she will hold me and at least one person I know will still love me. Part of me wants to panic and apologize and take my words back, because I can't take it, I can't stand this ripped-open, stinging emptiness. Another part of me wants to say words to her that are so bitter, I never thought I was capable of them. I have just about resigned myself to saying nothing, when she speaks again and the last bitter words on my mind pass my lips.

"I love you," she almost whispers, and it's true, I know it. But instantly, all I can think of is Sara and me, alone in my bunk as she smiles shyly at me, pink and breathless.

_I love you. _

_I know._

And this girl on the other side of the wall has destroyed it.

"You betrayed me," I say back, and I almost choke, stifling the tears. "I never should have trusted you! I should have left you in that alley!" I hear her crying but the anger and terror in my chest won't let me stop. "And now I want you to go away!" my mouth keeps saying. "Leave! And I. . . never. . . want to see you. . . again!" The last words squeeze out and I bite down on my sleeve, smother myself so she doesn't hear my sobs, because how could I ever stand to see her again? How can I stand to never see her again? She can hear nothing, I think, on her side of the door but I can hear her shaking breaths, then her footsteps, then the door.


	41. I Won't Pry

**We love all of your comments as shit falls apart! We're especially amused by those of you who like to tell us what should happen next, haha! As a brilliant musician once said, "I hate to inform you... but I have my own fucking plan." ;)**

**Part III, Chapter 4: I Won't Pry**

I'm pretty late getting back to the club. I don't know how late. I lost it under the tree, crying with my face in the moss, damp and cool. That went on for a while until two well-meaning university-age boys came up to check on me, asking if I was okay, if I needed anything. Their faces were shocked when they looked at me, and with my red, puffy, snot-covered face I must have almost looked like the monster I felt like. I almost wanted to tell them what was wrong so that they could be horrified, disgusted. Maybe they would just murder me and I wouldn't have to wait under the tree anymore. But they didn't and the corner of my brain that still cared about my obligations compelled me to drag myself back to the club.

Tegan was there when I walked in, as well as the boys. I couldn't speak to them. I needed to keep my shit together. Bawling under a tree was one thing but in front of everyone? This was my job. She was fiddling with her guitar; the boys were silently waiting. They were all tuned up and ready. I don't know where Jamie is. I see Nick and Piers and other people, the club's staff I assume, shuffling in and out, anxiously, because we're so fucking late and we're just fucking up but I don't even care. I have to do this, though, or nobody will get paid, and all the fans outside, who've already been waiting for hours and who are now waiting extra hours because of me, they will be cheated because I can't keep my hands off of my sister?

I glance at Tegan, accidentally, as I pick up my guitar. She looks like I feel. Her face is all flushed, her nose red. Her eyes, swollen. She looks over at me when I look at her, of course, because she wants to communicate with me but I just shut her out because you know what? I have no heart. She looks like she's on the verge of tears and I look away. The rawness in her eyes, in her face, are too much for me. I harden myself against it. That hurts too.

I don't know but it's like Ted just senses that he should take over and he leads us through sound check and I follow him, robotically. I do it on auto-pilot; Tegan can't keep anything straight. She fucks up the lyrics again and again, more than usual even. The boys are patient. She is a goddamned fucking mess, her hands shaking by the end of it. I try not to look at her, swallow it, this wretched feeling in my guts, everything gnawing at them. There are voices in the background and people say things that I should pay attention to but I don't until it's done and Shaun takes my arm and leads me backstage so the opening act can set up, and I follow him into one of the rooms backstage where we would normally all hang out together and wait, but I don't think I can stand to be in there with them looking at me, wondering, worrying. I can't look at Tegan. Her face isn't just a mirror; it's a mirror at a fun fair that makes everything bigger, sharper, hurt more. I can see the things gnawing at me also gnawing at her; I can see this wound in me reflected in her but it's worse when it's her because she is the one with a heart.

There's nowhere else to go, though. I can't disappear again. I'm fucking tired. Maybe they'll leave me alone? I sit on the end of a sofa and close my eyes. I hear my name, open my eyes; it's Nick, standing there with his clipboard.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asks, worried. I stare back at him. I have no idea how to answer. Am I? I can't see how. "To go on, I mean," he adds, as if he knows. I nod and close my eyes again. "Are you sure?" he asks and I nod again. "What about Tegan?" I open my eyes. They know better than to ask me to speak for her. I glance around; she's gone.

"She's just gone to the bathroom, I think," Ted says, handing me a bottle of water and sitting at the other end of the sofa. Nick goes off after Tegan.

They've all seen it, I guess? I'm surprised they're still here. The sofa shifts a little as someone sits next to me but I don't open my eyes. They are burning, swelling; my head is throbbing. I feel a hand on my knee.

"It's going to be okay," Shaun's voice tells me uncertainly. He's tentative with me like everyone is when I'm not happy. I shake my head. He is sweet but nothing he says can be true right now. Things can't be okay and never will again. How can they be? The only things that matter in the world are gone, or they're going. "They will. I mean. . . celebrities have sex tapes and nobody cares after a few minutes."

"That's right. Who remembers Paris Hilton's sex tape?" Ted asks.

"Who remembers Paris Hilton?" Johnny adds. They laugh, bless them, trying to be light-hearted while the whole world collapses. They won't have jobs soon so they may as well laugh now. I want to point out that Paris Hilton's sex tape didn't involve her sister, but I keep my eyes closed and my mouth shut. Have they seen it? If so, do they believe it's Casey on top of Tegan in the pile of hay?

"It's all going to blow over, okay? Things always do," Shaun says, rubbing my knee in a warm, affectionate way and I take a deep breath because I'll cry again if he doesn't shut up and fuck, I'm sick of crying.

Tegan's back in the room, murmuring something to Nick. I can't help it; I open my eyes for a moment. She sits in an armchair, kind of curls up, and starts to cry again, pulling her hood up and covering the top half of her face with it. I close my eyes again and don't move so I'm sure everyone thinks I'm just a cold fucking heartless bitch as I sit on my end of the sofa as the person who owns my whole fucking soul is fucking falling apart in front of me in slow motion. I think I might throw up but instead I cry too, and do the same thing with my hood. Silently, as silently as I can. God damn it. I can hear Tegan. That misery combined with my fucking inability to go to her and hold her like I want to is just slicing my heart like it's on a butcher block. Make it stop.

"You guys, it's. . . you'll be okay, everything will. . ." Ted says a little helplessly. "Maybe we'll go out and leave you alone for a bit. . ." That sounds like a good idea but that means I'll be alone with Tegan. And then what will happen? She'll come to me and I'll be too weak to push her away.

"No," I say quickly. "Please stay." Nobody else says anything for a while.

People come in and out and I ignore it. I keep my eyes closed and I drift off for a while. A few minutes. I don't know. I come around again and I hear someone talking softly to Tegan and I don't know if it's helping. My tears have stopped finally and it's good timing because we get the word that it's time to go on.

I follow them onstage. I'm the robot again. I grab my guitar and the crowd is screaming, cheering, hooting, whooping like always except that there's a thread of something hostile in it. I don't look at them, no smiles. We start the first song right away. When it's done there are screams, cheers, shouts. There is also something like. . . jeering. Taunting.

I ignore it. Someone shouts_ Fuck each other again!_ and some people scream excitedly. There are shouts that sound angry and maybe they are on our side? But maybe they are going to run onstage and murder us?

I look over at Tegan because she stumbles, or something, kicks over the mic stand. She picks it up. She's blinking, squinting. What's wrong with her? Can't she see?

The next two songs are Tegan's. She has her favourites that she fucks up regularly, and a few wild cards that we can never be sure about, but she fucks these up like she's trying to but I know she's not because she's angry, and when she stops after the second verse of "I Know I Know I Know" and rambles something in the mic but it isn't funny, it's just sad. She starts again, fucks up again, stops. Her voice is shaking. I look over; her hands are shaking. She moves the capo. Why is she moving the capo? She's moving it back. She's going to lose it; her eyes are shining. If she does, I will too. I want to say something to help her but I also want to grab her, close my fingers around her throat. I can't cry so I find another way to channel it.

"Do you want me to fucking sing it for you?" I snap, and the crowd cheers. Tegan shakes her head, bites her lip.

"No, I want you to play your guitar and give me a break," she says.

"You've had like three breaks already in this song, so-"

"Shut up and play your part, maybe?"

"Fuck you," comes out of my mouth, unbelievably. There are laughs, hoots, shocked noises and someone shouts again, _Yeah! Fuck each other!_

I start my part and we get through the song. Tegan fucks it up a little bit more but keeps going.

"Dark Come Soon" is next and I just feel it in my guts that that is a bad thing. She starts okay. Wavers a little but it's okay. I hear shouts, see a scuffle in the middle of the floor out of the corner of my eye but ignore it and keep going. Half-way through the song, Tegan is in tears again, turning her back on the crowd and the deja-vu hits me. I keep singing my backgrounds. I don't know what to do. I wish something would happen. An accident. Some kind of natural disaster. Maybe someone could jump on stage and attack me. Generally I'm fucking terrified when anyone so much as approaches the stage, but right now, I think I'd welcome it. Fucking stab me, please. Tegan is crying now with her back to the audience and I keep singing, it's a mess, God, it's all falling apart. I hear a crash; a pint glass explodes on the stage next to me. Beer soaks my sock. Bits of glass hit my leg. There are angry shouts, I think, towards the glass-thrower but I don't know. I try to keep going. Tegan is back at her mic stand when another glass flies past her and crashes in front of the drum kit. I see Tegan's face, red, wet with tears, shocked. My heart contracts painfully and so does my chest. I try to take a deep breath but I can't. I feel dizzy. They are throwing beer at us. Tegan is in tears. Fuck this, no more. Fuck it, fuck it all. I drop my guitar on the stage and walk off as the drum kit rattles to a halt and the screams are frantic, deafening, insane. I hear Tegan berate them, tearfully. My stomach has these weird pulsations and I taste acid. My chest is tightening, tightening, I can't breathe. I go through the first door I see and I slide down a wall, in a stairwell, collapse.

I'm there, crouching down in the stairwell with my head between my knees because I hear that's what you do when you hyperventilate. I think I'm going to pass out. My throat is closing. I gasp, panicking, I'll die, I'm dying, finally. I hear voices, someone's hand on my back, I don't know. Shouting, crying, stomping sounds from the crowd vibrate through the wall where I lean my head, try to breathe. Then Tegan is passing me on the stairs, stumbling. She is rushing, I see her. She almost falls, grabs the railing, and then doubles over and vomits on the wall, on the stairs and staggers down the last three steps, to the landing, and collapses. I hear her voice, wailing, piercing me, slicing through me. My chest spasms, my lungs burn as I gasp, gasp, gasp and can't stop, I'm dying, we're both dying. Tegan is dying in front of me! Things get blurry and then black.


	42. And If You Go

**A short one for now, guys, cause the next one's a doozy...**

**P.S. We are SO FUCKING EXCITED that drawnquincest on Tumblr is now illustrating our story! Holy fuck! We have been DYING to have someone illustrate it (as I'm sure some of you remember!), and she has already posted three fucking amazing drawings of the first two chapters, so go check those out NOW! We seriously can't wait to see what she's going to do with some of the upcoming chapters... and we know you know which ones we mean... ;) Hell, we can't wait to see what she's going to do with chapters we haven't even posted yet! **

**Part III, Chapter 5: And If You Go**

There were a lot of things running through Jamie's mind during the short flight from Berlin to London, but chief among them was the girl in the camera store, what she was going to say to her, and how much she would rather tear out the girl's throat with her bare hands. Against her own will, she played and replayed Tegan's last words to her, over and over in her mind. _I wish I'd never met you. . . I never want to see you again. . . you betrayed me_. She was too shocked, perhaps, to cry on the plane; stunned to the point of numbness. And that was her initial state of mind the next day when she walked into the camera store and saw the girl, there, at the counter, flipping through a magazine, looking as though nothing at all could possibly be amiss.

"Can I help you?" the girl asked listlessly, before looking up and making eye contact with Jamie. When she did so, there was a momentary flicker, Jamie saw, but she immediately replaced that with a vacuous and already ever-so-slightly defensive expression.

"Well, I'm not sure if you can," Jamie started, only a slight tremor in her voice betraying her. "But one thing you can do is go to YouTube right now and take that video down. Though that won't fix the damage you have already caused."

The girl looked at her, false innocence.

"What video's that, then?" the girl asked, forced indifference giving her an arch look.

"You know what video. You can take it down right now, while I'm standing here."

"I'm sorry but you'll have to be more specific," she said, a little huffy. Jamie's patience was unlikely to hold on much longer; she was never particularly patient with stupidity, and she was also holding back a wave of anguish that was more than she thought she could manage.

"Okay. You took a video off of my camera and put it on YouTube entitled 'Tegan and Sara, Barn Sex,'" Jamie explained tensely.

"Oh, yeah, brilliant video, innit?" the girl asked with a smirk, and Jamie could feel the heat rise to her face. She placed her hands on the counter calmly.

"You stole it from my camera," she said. "And you published. . . lies. . . and you've fucking destroyed the lives of several people."

"Come on, there's no way I could pass that up-"

"It was none of your fucking business," Jamie went on.

"Why'd you leave it on the card, then, if it was such a secret?" the girl shot back.

"I didn't. I deleted it. And what I leave on my camera is my fucking business. You had no right to do that!" The girl shrugged. "Don't you fucking shrug!"

"Look, you can't prove anything," she said. "Next time you drop your camera off somewhere, make sure you don't have a feckin' video of two, like, sisters fucking each other in a barn!" Jamie laughed derisively, but her hands trembled with barely suppressed rage.

"Are you kidding me? You actually believe it was them?" The girl gave her a sardonic look.

"Don't take the piss. It's them and everyone knows it," she said.

"How do you know?" Jamie asked.

"I've been a fan for years. I know what they look like."

"A fan? You have fucking destroyed their career," Jamie said.

"Look, there's nothing you can do about it so you may as well just bugger off," the girl said, snidely.

"You're right. There's nothing I can do about it and I obviously can't appeal to your compassion, because you obviously don't have any. But their record label can and will sue you so maybe if you take it down now, it won't come to that." There was another flicker across her face and this time it was fear. "What are you gaining out of keeping that video up? It's a video of Tegan with her ex-girlfriend. Why should they lose their career and hurt their family and. . . and suffer more than you can fucking imagine just so you can get some hits on your YouTube channel? Are you fucking heartless? What is wrong with you?!"

By then, Jamie was shouting. She was barely hanging on. A tall, skinny balding guy with a patchy beard came up to the counter from a back room.

"Something wrong, then?" he asked.

"This. . . person. . . put a video on YouTube that cost me my job," Jamie said around the lump in her throat; her job was the least of the things she'd lost. "It also probably cost two people their career and has destroyed them, and it's all false."

"Oh, the Tegan and Sara video?" the guy laughed. Jamie took a breath.

"You know, they are friends with a lot of bands in the UK. Do you want that kind of publicity for your shop? And can you really afford a legal battle with a major record label?" The guy looked subdued. "Take it down now, and delete the file from your computer while I stand here, and I won't contact the legal department at the label." The girl looked haughty but somewhat deflated. The man, serious. He looked Jamie in the eye for several seconds.

"Look," he said, his hands up, "just a bit of fun, innit? Just a joke, really."

"A joke? They're sisters, and the video claims that they're having sex! You have a fucked up sense of humour!"

"Listen, take it easy-"

"I won't take it easy! Take the video down now, unless you have a team of lawyers stashed away to go to battle with a major record label!" At that point, her anger and the pain in her heart were threatening bring her to tears, but she held the wave back, somehow, as the guy hesitated a little more and then spoke to his employee.

"Delete the video," he said to her. The girl looked affronted.

"It's not-"

"Just delete it unless you want to pay for the lawyer out of your salary?" There was a pause, while the girl looked indignant. "Where is the video stored?"

"On my laptop," she said.

"Get it." The girl huffed, but opened her laptop on the counter. Jamie stood by, her heart pounding, silently waiting. The man watched the girl locate the file in her computer.

"This is it," she said, and the man turned the computer around to face Jamie.

"You delete it," he said to Jamie. Jamie eyed him for a moment, then deleted the file, opened the trash can, and emptied it.

"Now YouTube," she said. The girl opened YouTube and removed the video while Jamie watched.

"Satisfied?" the girl asked, her tone saturated with resentment. Jamie looked at her.

"I think you might be too stupid to realize what you've done. So I guess, in a way, it isn't your fault."

Jamie turned and left the shop quickly. She walked twenty meters and turned, abruptly, into a piss-smelling alley and leaned against the wall. Her senses assaulted, she was reminded of another piss-smelling alley where she had fallen asleep waiting for a bus and woke up to the sound of Tegan's voice. Three seconds later, she burst into tears. She cried in the alley, alone, for a long while. Then she got back on the Tube, back to Heathrow to catch her flight home.

. . . . . . . .

When I'm conscious again, my head is splitting, but I'm somewhere soft and warm. Before I open my eyes, I know I'm on our bus. I know from the smell.

I feel a touch, a gentle hand brush the hair back from my forehead and I open my eyes and it's Tegan, and her eyes meet mine, red and puffy and sad. For a moment, or half a moment, I feel warm relief, and then the wave of dread rises up in me again.

"Tegan, God-" I need to get up. Tegan puts a hand on my shoulder, stops me.

"Nobody else is on the bus. . ." I stop pushing against her, frozen, perplexed. Yes. If we are on the bus again, there is no point. If someone is going to see us, they will, or they already have. God, my head. I close my eyes and lay back down. "You passed out. . ." she says, her hand on my forehead again, soft. "Shaun carried you here."

"Why didn't he put me somewhere else? I can't stay here!" The warmth I feel at her touch is struggling again with this sick heaviness. I need to escape. She looks puzzled, sad. "Tegan, this is the fucking reason that everything has gone to shit! This is why!" I snap at her, pulling away again, quickly, and climbing off the bed.

"Sara, we're alone-"

"We can't be alone! No!" I say, almost a shout. "Never again! Why can't you fucking understand that?" I press my fingers against my temples, against the pulsing ache that is making me feel dizzy again. Her face looks like I've slapped her, and she starts to follow as I move away. "No! You need to stay here, and I need to go to the other bus. That's it, Tegan! You have to. . . fucking. . . face it!" The words almost smother me. Her eyes make me want to die. I leave her there and run away again.


	43. Should I Stay

**Trigger Warning: ALL THE THINGS! It can't get better until it's way, way worse. But we promise we have a plan.**

**Part III, Chapter 6: Should I Stay**

They had the next night off, in Hamburg. The girls, on their separate buses, rejected

many attempts by the boys and their crew to take them out somewhere to get their minds off of things. Both of them spent most of the day sleeping, or lying in bed wishing for sleep. In the early evening, Tegan went off to wander the streets alone, and came upon a little theatre. She bought a ticket for a movie that had started thirty minutes before. It was nearly dark; she sat at the back, watching but not watching, sometimes crying into her sleeve. Eventually, mercifully, she fell asleep.

While Tegan slept at the back of the empty theatre, Sara sat in a booth in the back corner of a dark little bar with sticky wooden tables. She ordered Glenlivet, neat, and kept her face in her book, trying to drown out reality and everyone in it. She did not pace herself; by the time the first guy approached her, she was already on her third glass. He started smoothly in German and half-way through his introductory gambit she said, simply, _no, _without looking up. Offended, he said something harsh-sounding in German that she ignored and he left. The second guy would have received the same cold dismissal if he hadn't chosen such a surprising opener.

"Franny is my favourite," he said, before she had a chance to dismiss him; she looked up, momentarily surprised, as he sat uninvited across from her and smiled. She collected herself, and frowned as he gestured towards the cover of her book, thousands of pages thick. "_Fall on Your Knees. _I've read it twice," he carried on, oblivious to her dubious, uninviting glare. "I majored in Canadian Lit in uni."

"Why would you do that?" she asked, suspicious. Why would a Scottish guy major in Canadian literature? Even Canadians didn't do that. She quickly scanned over his features; he was pleasant-looking. Innocuous. Non-threatening. He was probably too nice.

"Robertson Davies-"

"Never mind," Sara said flatly with a dismissive wave of her hand. "It doesn't matter." She looked back to her book and hoped he'd leave. He didn't.

"So what brings you here?" he continued, nonplussed. "Hamburg, I mean." She paused, irritated, her eyes fixed on her page but taking nothing in.

"Work," she said with a sigh.

"Me too. I'm with Reuters here. Yourself?" She looked up at him, his earnest smile.

"Um. . . what's your name?" she asked, deflecting.

"Mark," he said, extending a hand. "You?"

"Sara."

"Pleasure. So. . . you here with your boyfriend?" he asked, probing. She looked back at him, unsmiling.

"No." She wondered how he could still be sitting there smiling when she gave him absolutely no encouragement.

"Girlfriend then?" he asked brightly, as Sara sipped her whiskey, shook her head.

"No."

"Am I getting closer?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow, and she snorted with very little amusement.

"Yeah. But still no."

"Ah, well, all the better for me then."

"I'm gay," she said. Mark shrugged.

"And I'm right-handed," he said, nonchalant. Sara raised her eyebrows.

"How is that the same?"

"Well, I once broke my wrist playing rugby. Had to use my left hand for six weeks." He smiled broadly.

"Interesting analogy."

"We work with what we have. What are we drinking tonight?" he asked, and for a moment Sara felt like she might be willing to smile at Mark if she weren't feeling like she'd never be happy again.

"Glenlivet," she said and he nodded his approval.

"Brilliant. My grandmother used to rub it on my gums when I was teething. Warms the cockles of my heart." Sara finished her glass and glanced around for a waitress. He was too nice, and if he got much nicer he would be of no use to her. She did not want to continue this pleasant, slightly charming banter with him. She was going to need to cut that short before she started to like him.

"Listen, Mark. Tell me. Why did you sit down with me?" He leaned back, surprised.

"Um, I. . . well, you're sitting all alone and-"

"Be real," she said. He laughed.

"I guess I saw a cute girl alone, reading a book I know, and. . . so. . ." he was getting a little nervous under her unwavering gaze.

"Do you want to fuck me?" she asked bluntly; his mouth opened, closed. Eyebrows raised.

"No. I mean-"

"No?" she asked.

"I mean. . . well. . . yes. I mean, ultimately. . ."

"Ultimately?" she repeated, frowning.

"I. . . well, one doesn't simply say-"

"Listen, Mark. You seem like a nice guy. But time is a factor here. Let's just be straight. Do you or do you not want to fuck me?" She regarded him coolly. He reddened, a little, scratched his head and shrugged.

"Yeah," he said. Sara looked at her watch.

"We have two hours. Come on."

. . . . . . . . . . .

He follows me back to the bus, a mixture of disbelief, amusement, and possibly fear. Yeah, there's a little fear mixed in there, I'm almost amused to notice, but just almost. I'm moderately drunk now. I'm past the point of being warmly buzzed to the point of finding it difficult to walk in a straight line. He is perhaps only slightly buzzed and tries to put his arm around me to help me, but I shrug it off. No. No sweetness. No gentleness. No kindness. That just won't work, won't hurt enough. I can feel his consternation when I step a little away from him but he keeps walking, keeps talking and I don't respond. I should have drunk more at the bar, I think, because even if I want to hurt myself I don't know if I'm drunk enough to do it. There's probably something in the bus. . .

We get to the lot behind the venue where our two buses are parked and I unlock the door to the smaller bus and realize I don't much care if it's empty or not. For all I know, Tegan could be there. What would she be doing if she were? She wouldn't be on the bus with anyone, that's for sure. Jamie's gone and Tegan is not the type to pick up a meaningless guy at a bar and take him home. Thinking about her makes me feel like my heart is collapsing, that I'm drowning.

"What the. . . this is your bus?" he asks, in amazement. His accent makes him charming so I want him to stop talking. I glance at him briefly before stepping up into the bus. He's thin, not very tall but probably a foot taller than me. His hair colour suggests to me that he was a redhead as a child. He smiles but there is something kind of contemptuous about his look that makes me feel better.

"You're. . . oh Jesus, I just figured out who you are!" he exclaims, following me into the kitchen area where I look through the cupboards for a bottle of anything.

"Oh yeah?" I say, and I know I sound completely uninterested but the effort that would be required to try to make him feel like I give a fuck about what he is saying is just too much to contemplate. I can't even fake a smile. Heaviness settles in my heart at the sound of his surprise, his interest. Why couldn't I just be anonymous to him like he was to me?

"You're in that band! You and another girl. . ."

"My sister," I reply and Tegan's eyes are before me, my eyes with her warmth, flooded with the pain of rejection as I jerk away from her. She is hurting and wants to be with me, wants to comfort me. . . wants me to comfort her. . . and that will make it better. I'm hurting too so I want to hurt her, hurt myself, because nothing will ever make it better.

"Yeah, your sister! And you're both lesbians!" God, he's so engaged in all of this right now that I either need to send him away or get him drunker. I find a bottle of Bombay Sapphire and force myself to pour some into a glass rather than swigging from the bottle. I hand him the glass without asking him if he wants any, or if he maybe wants tonic with it, because I can't fucking be bothered. "What are the odds of both of you being lesbians?" he muses, taking a sip as I swallow a large quantity of it in one go and pour more. I try not to sigh.

"Well, we're twins, so. . ."

"Twins!" he exclaims. God, fucking goddamn it, why is it so amazing? Our fucking egg split in two! Who cares? It happens!

I finish the gin and walk back towards the bedroom, Tegan's bedroom now, and he hesitates and then follows.

"Identical twins?" he asks and how can I make him understand that the last fucking thing in the world I want to do right now is talk about my identical twin sister? Where is she? Is she okay? I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I can't be like you and we can't just curl up together and cry together and hope our lives are miraculously fixed. We are fucked and that's it. Our mother is probably watching the video right now, her heart broken, holy fuck. I can't even imagine it. It makes me want to cut myself.

But he is here and I can use that. All this pain in my chest. . . I need to move it somewhere else. Maybe I should just go out and find a dark, secluded park. Maybe someone would attack me.

He is still going on about twins and I want to tell him that identical twins and pure, true redheads are equally prevalent in the human genome but I don't. And then he's talking again.

"My ex-girlfriend was a huge fan of yours. And then she left me for a motorcycle mechanic named Alice," he said.

"It happens," I mutter, and he goes on, obliviously.

"So are you _sure _you're gay?" he asks, and I give him a look because what question could be more presumptuous?

"Are you sure you're straight?" I ask him, testily, crouching to untie my shoes.

"Maybe you just haven't met the right man yet," he says, and for one surreal moment, I wonder if he's for real. I glare up at him, untie my other shoe.

"Maybe _you _haven't," I shoot back, and he scoffs, but his smirk twitches at the end, transforming itself into a sneer in a way that gives me a chill. But it's gone as quickly as it formed, and he's all affable again.

"No, thank you. If I were a bugger I'd-"

"Look," I start, and now we are in the bedroom next to Tegan's big, empty bed. "You can either keep talking, or you can take your pants off. But you can't do both."

He is stunned, his eyes wide. He looks like he is going to say something again but I guess when I unbutton my jeans he sees that I'm serious. So then he steps towards me and leans in like he's going to kiss me but that can't happen.

"No," I hear my mouth say, "there can't be any. . . like. . . gentle bullshit. Okay? Just fucking. That's all it is. You are going to fuck me and then leave." I drank the gin fast. My head is spinning and I half-wonder whether I am being too cold and he'll just leave and then I'll have to find someone else or go out into the streets and maybe get raped and murdered. I'm almost ready to think that's a better plan when his face gets serious and he starts to take off his jeans. Good, he looks a little mad. I've made him a little mad, or I've offended him, and maybe now he will do it right but even so, I'm surprised when he grips my waist in both hands and kind of pushes me down onto the bed. Then he's above me and he's tugging at my pants and then I let him and they're off and then so are my underwear and then I'm half-naked. He is above me and then on top of me and he pulls his shirt off himself and I am instantly reminded of the time I got drunk and had sex with the bass player of one of the bands that we opened for and not because I wanted to, but because what I did want made me deserve it. And it worked because my heart hurt and then the inside of me hurt and I felt like throwing up because I was just a thing that he fucked and that's how I felt and I could see Tegan's face and all my heart could say was _I love you more than I can even understand _and then my brain reminded me _you're repulsive and someday everyone will know it _and to shut up that voice in my head I pulled him into me and let him do whatever he wanted. So that bass player fucked me in an equipment trailer and then I made him leave and nobody knew and his big hands and hard body and the sweat from his stomach on me all made me feel lost and I just cried.

And so that voice in my head was right and now everyone knows exactly what I am and I deserve it even more now than I did then. So he's on me but I can see him, see his face and this is not going to work. I see that angry look, the one I saw when I made the joke about him not having met the right man yet, the look that made my stomach drop a little, but before I can say or do anything he is grabbing me and turning me over and I think I nearly gasp because it's that easy, it's so easy for him to just turn me like that and then I'm on my knees and he's behind me and I can't see him, good, and I feel him press against me and the end of it and then he pushes into me and nothing is wet and nothing is ready so there is a kind of tearing pain and I press my face into Tegan's pillow to suffocate the sound I make. He's behind me, his hands grasping my hips, pulling me back into him as he thrusts into me and it hurts like it did the last time in the equipment trailer only this time, the smell of Tegan is all around me and it stabs me, stabs my heart. He is leaning over me, I can hear him, his breathing, raspy, with quiet kind of grunting moans as one of his hands moves from my hip, slides under my body and grabs one of my breasts. He keeps going and it's burning and I wonder if I'm bleeding or if that is something else and the way he is touching me, it repulses me, and I remember Tegan, her mouth on my mouth as her soft hand moved over my breast and I shivered. Gentle Tegan, my sister, why? It's unfair and I'm sick, and you're sick. We're identical so we are identically sick. Why can't I want the things that I am allowed to have? Why do I need the things that I can't? Why do I need the thing whose wanting makes me a sick fucking monstrosity? It's because of all of this that I need this stranger to ram himself into me because how, why do I want you like that? And knowing that I'm fucking sick, why can't I push you away? I can't, and it's not okay, and that is why all of this is happening.

And I see that fucking little pineapple pillow on the edge of the bed and for a second I think of Jamie and I hate her because this is all her fault, but _no_, I remind myself, _it's your fault for every time you fucked your sister, just like this_. And I repeat that in my head as he is pushing inside of me and his rhythm is getting faster, he's pulling me back against him, his hips slapping against my ass, and his grunts follow those slaps like commas, and it feels big, like the strap-on must have felt when Tegan woke up underneath me and the gin and whiskey are making me feel like throwing up now, a little, because of the jarring movement, the way he is kind of pounding me, but that's what I wanted. So now, my shredded heart is mirrored by the tearing pain inside of me, his hand on my breast, and then sliding down my back, what now? He must be getting close, but now he is stopping, shifting. He pulls out and I bite my tongue but he's turning me again, onto my back, and he pushes my legs open again and he is on top of me and one hand goes down to guide it and he's inside again and I shut my eyes because I don't need to see his red face, which is close to me as he starts thrusting again as I continue to let him punish me. And now it is his stomach slapping against me, rubbing against mine as he pushes my shirt up, his hands on my breasts again, and he catches my eye, although I try to avoid it, he catches it because he wants to look me in the eye while he rams me. It freezes me for a second, his look, a suggestion of a sneer, only around his mouth, not his eyes, and I turn my face away. He pulls one side of my bra down and his mouth is on my breast as his hips grind into me, faster. I'm very sore now and he sucks on my nipple and then he's moaning, his face gets close to mine and I turn my head as far away as I can. His breath on my neck, then his hot mouth, _oh fuck _he says against my neck, thrusting a few more times, _oh God _he says and I can smell Tegan's hair, like aloe and cucumber and I feel something rising up in my throat as he thrusts again, again, one more time, and with a long kind of groan, he comes inside me, pushes into me again, moans again, and then goes limp on top of me. He's hot, his weight on me, his sweat, I want him gone. He's still inside and I want him out. His body on top of me is making me feel trapped and I push at his shoulder a little and he pulls out, which hurts too, and rolls off of me, his breath heavy and shallow. He lays next to me, catching his breath for a moment and now there is the pain and the hollowness, and then he gets up and I see him for a second, still flushed, and I see he's a little bloody and he looks and sees it too and I turn away on my side.

"Jesus, are you. . . uh. . ."

"You can use the bathroom and then go," I say and he only pauses for a second and then he goes and I hear water and I tentatively lower my hand and feel the sticky warm wetness. I pull the blanket over me and then he's back. I hear him shuffle around, pull on his clothes.

"I'm. . . uh-"

"Just go," I say as my throat starts to swell. He says nothing else; I hear him make his way up the hallway and then the click of the door and he's gone. I bite my tongue until I taste blood but it's not enough. I press my face into Tegan's pillow, even though I'm alone, and nobody can hear me. So there it is. My soul is rotten; my heart, a black cancer. I've destroyed everything. I put my fingers inside of my sister and tasted her mouth as she came under me and everyone in the world knows, our mother knows, she made us and fed us and loved us and kept us warm and clean and safe and taught us how to cross the road and how to tie our shoes and put our crayon drawings up on the fridge. And then we grew up and we fucked each other and broke her heart and now everything is black, everything is gone, and I have nothing. I almost hope she comes and finds me, in her bed, bloody sheets, half-naked, sobbing into her pillow until I choke.


	44. And If I Lie

**Hey there guys... I hope you all have recovered from last week? Thanks for all of the good discussion around it, no matter what your opinions were. If you're not on tumblr, we wrote a big long posty-thing on there that helps to explain a lot of what was going on. If you haven't read it, please please do. I think it will help. You may have to scroll down a bit to find it. Our blog name is heavy-80. And now, moving along...**

**Part III, Chapter 7: And If I Lie**

Somehow the tears won't stop. I think I might actually be losing my mind, for real, but I can't be here, in Tegan's bed, half-naked and bloody when she gets back, I can't. So I get up and go to the shower. I turn on the water, hot, and start cleaning up the surprising mess and there's a sharp sting and I watch bloody water swirl down the drain and I hate myself, holy fuck. I'm beyond exhausted, and I lean my head against the hard plastic wall and I really can't stop. The valve has broken, maybe, and now I will just always cry? Uncontrollably? They will lock me up in a hospital. Drug me until I drool? Why not? It's better than this.

I am crying still when I hear knocking, then pounding, then Tegan's voice. _Who's in there? Sara? Is that you? _The edge of fear in her voice tells me that she's seen the bloody sheets and what will she think? I can't call out to answer her over the spasms in my chest; I sink down to the floor and draw my knees up. Just leave me in here, just leave me. But she's coming in now.

"Sara, what the - oh my God, what-" I look up at her, quickly, at the fear in her face, her eyes wide. She thinks something has happened to me, something bad. She's ready to be angry. No, God, just go away! Go away. . .

But she's opening the clear plastic door now, she's frantic, she's coming in, and now what?

"Sara! What happened? Are you. . . what. . .?" She can't even say it; she's shutting off the water and then she's kneeling in front of me, and she takes my face between both of her hands and turns my eyes to her and I look at her, her scared eyes. "What happened? The bed. . . . you're. . . why are you crying? What happened?" I look down, and I can still see ribbons of blood swirling down the drain. I can feel the panic rising up in her. I think I'll be sick but I can't let her think what she's thinking. It's better for her to know the truth than to think that. But, God, she can't be in the shower with me! Why doesn't she understand? I need to get away from her, from this situation, if I can stop sobbing like a fucking insane person but I can't, and that scares her more. "Sara! Tell me!" I shake my head. "What happened? Are you. . . tell me! You have to tell me!"

"It's nothing," I manage to get out. "Nothing happened. . ." Her eyebrows draw together. "It's not. . . I just . . . I just came in to sleep and I . . . got my period and. . . Tegan, you have to get out of here!" I cry, panicking again. She's having none of it.

"Why are you crying in the shower if it's nothing?! It doesn't look like nothing!"

"You can't be here! We can't be like this! Tegan! This is why, this is. . . it's why everything is _fucked _now_! _You have to get _out!" _God, I hear my voice and I'm practically wailing now. I'm getting cold, I'm wet and naked, and I need her to leave me alone. She tries to put her arms around me and I push against her, roughly, too roughly. Her face, shocked.

"Sara, you're not okay!" she says and she doesn't look much better.

"Get out! Leave! Fuck, Tegan! Go!" Why won't she go? Someone will find us like this, and things are bad enough. She backs up, stands, looking down at me, glossy eyes. She's angry, yeah, but more hurt. She just looks at me for a long moment and then grabs a towel and drops it around my shoulders.

"You'll get sick," she says, and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

. . . . . . . . . .

The bus is so quiet now. There's the driver up front and then me, alone, in this huge bed in the back. It seems so pointless but there are no beds left on the other bus. It's late, so late. I can't sleep, can't relax. I try one position, and another. I lie on my back and stare up at the shifting patterns of light and dark in the skylight above the bed, and my eyes won't close. I try lying curled on my side, with the pineapple pillow supporting my shoulder, but the pineapple pillow digs into my heart. I keep holding it, though. I need something to hold. I wish Sara were here to hold me, or Jamie. . .

We're on the highway and it's night. Jamie's gone. I told her I didn't want to see her again and she left and it doesn't matter how sorry I am because it's done and she's gone. There's no way I'll ever meet anyone else who just accepts me that way, no matter what, and loves me like there's nothing wrong with me. I fucked it all up and that digs into my heart too. Sara's on the other bus with the boys because she didn't want to be alone with me, and the sting of that makes me feel sick because there _is_ something wrong with me. I almost lost my mind when I saw the blood and then saw her crying in the shower. What had happened to her? Had someone hurt my sister and if so, would I soon be going to jail for murder because I swear, I swear. . . I tried to talk to her, tried to help. When she looked at me, her eyes flashed. Fear and anger. How can I stop myself from reaching out for her? And how can she recoil from me like that? She pushed against me, pushed me away.

I play it over and over again in my mind. _Sara, you're not okay. . . _ she jerked away from me as I reached for her, her eyes panicked. _Get out! Leave! Fuck, Tegan! _She pushed me away.

So I'm in this huge bed and I need to sleep because we have another show tomorrow but I can't. Now that I'm off the stage, and the adrenaline and the pressure to perform and get through it and survive it have all passed, this huge weight is on me again and it's crushing me and I can't move. What is happening to Sara? Is she sleeping? Is she lying awake in a bunk on that bus when she should be with me? Just last night she was with me, in this bed. My hands on her body, then her legs over my shoulders as I pressed my tongue into her, and after, she kissed me for so long, I swooned. Her fingers on my skin in the silver light at the back of the bus. I smelled her hair, tasted her lips and was able to forget how fucked it all was because we were made like that and it was just us, just who we were and it wasn't our fault, it wasn't. And now she's gone and I see her eyes when she pulls away from me. I see her, in the shower, her hands pressed against her face. _Get out! Get the fuck out! _she says. . . And then I see Jamie's face for a moment, shocked, her eyes shining, and just when I think that my guts can't take any more, I can see my mother's face, in my imagination, when she finds the video.

I don't want the driver to hear me. I cover my face with a pillow and wish someone were there to hold it down.

. . . . . . .

Jamie didn't really believe the video was gone for good; she could only hope that fear of being sued would be enough. It amazed her that she had managed to get through the conversation without diving across the counter and throttling the girl in the shop.

She'd held it together until stepping into that alley, but once the seal was broken, that was it. She was in tears at the check-in counter; she was in tears through the security check. She had a headache by the time she was seated on the plane, and she sat with her hood up and her head against the window and wept until, emotionally exhausted, she fell into an uneasy sleep.

Some time later, she was roused by a gentle touch on her arm; she turned to see a young man in the seat next to her. She hadn't even noticed him sit down. The flight attendant was in the aisle with the food cart.

"Chicken or beef?" she asked briskly. Jamie was feeling faintly nauseated by then, so she shook her head.

"It's a long flight," the man next to her said. Jamie sighed.

"Chicken," she said hoarsely, and the flight attendant placed the plastic tray in front of her.

"Rubber chicken. My favourite," the man said, and Jamie's stomach twisted at the recollection of Sara's words in Tegan's kitchen. It seemed like years ago.

"Yeah," Jamie said wearily. She wasn't sure she could manage a conversation, even if it was with a pleasant guy with a charming accent.

"You alright? You were. . . I mean, it's none of my business. . ." he said, somewhat shyly, as he peeled the foil cover off of his tiny, soggy dinner. Jamie stared at her tray, its plastic-wrapped utensils, sleeves of sugar, bread shaped like a football. She peeled back the cover on her tiny cup of orange juice. Her heart literally ached, and she wondered how it was possible that people didn't die from what she felt at that moment. Or maybe they did. Maybe that could happen soon.

"Uh. . . not really. . ." she murmured, unable to say more. The young man pulled open the plastic wrapper and removed his knife and fork.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked gently. She drank some juice, swallowed the swelling in her throat.

"I don't think I can," she said. "I'll just like. . ." But it was too late; quite suddenly, another wave of tears overcame her. She covered her mouth with her hand, struggling to suppress it, surprised as the young man rubbed shoulder for a moment.

"Aww well. . . a broken heart, then?" Jamie took a few deep breaths, swiped the tears away with her sleeve and, after a moment, nodded. What else could she call it? "Leaving a boyfriend behind in London?" he asked, his voice soothing, light. She was too tired say anything. She shook her head, leaned back in her seat, ignoring her spongy chicken fillet and cubed vegetables. "Well. . . going hungry won't make it better." Jamie sniffed, sighed, and in her mind she heard Sara's voice. _Tegan, don't you ever buy food?_ She half-heartedly prodded at her chicken and picked at the plasticky vegetables. She made a few attempts to eat the lifeless entree and gave up, moving on to the cup of yogurt. It was not pineapple flavour, but as soon as it passed her lips, the memories of Vancouver, Tegan sitting on the bed, grinning as Jamie talked to her sister. . . the taste of Tegan's mouth. . . everything after. . . it all struck her, and her neighbour looked on with a saddened expression as Jamie doubled over her tray and quietly started to cry again.

I'm bleeding. Internally. My organs have shredded and now I'm filling up with blood and at some point it will rupture. It all needs to escape, it all needs to leak out somehow, this building, building aching pressure that's suffocating me. Maybe it's already leaking out through my eyes as I just cry and cry and can't even stop when I'm sure that I'm past the point where everything should have stopped. It hurts, everything hurts, being here hurts and I just don't want to be anywhere. I want to be gone. I wish I were dead. I don't know how I can even stand this long enough for the plane to land. And when it does, then what? I feel half terrified that the pain will swallow me, and I will panic and lose my mind as we are trapped somewhere thousands of feet over the Atlantic. What could anyone possibly do? Sedate me? I'd had Xanax prescribed to me once before, and now I wish to God that I could swallow half a bottle and disappear into a barely conscious haze but instead, my entire body trembles as the tears drip into my hair and I breathe shallow, panicked breaths and my hands clench at the sleeves of my hoody just to have something to hold. Calm down, just calm down. . . I'm thinking of all the things that people do to numb this kind of pain, and they are things I've shunned and rejected my entire life, things that have always filled me with contempt, but maybe I don't care anymore. Maybe I should just drink myself blind. Black out, pass out, forget? Is that how it worked? Maybe for the first time I can actually understand why people would want to stick needles in their veins and drug themselves away to sweet oblivion.

Where am I going? What will I do? What the fuck is left of my life? I abandoned school and my family and all of my friends to follow Tegan around the fucking world and now there's nothing left and my family already thinks I have completely gone off the rails. And now I have. I have.

My mind tortures me. Every five minutes shows me vivid pictures of Tegan the last time I saw her. Tegan's eyes, normally so warm, so sweet, always sweet to me, were then flashing with anger, with pain and resentment. Accusation. _You betrayed me_, she cried through the bathroom door, and I felt rows of needle-sharp teeth pierce my heart because that was incomprehensible, a complete impossibility. I can make mistakes, yes. I can omit things. I can fuck up. But betrayal? I would give my organs to Tegan if she needed them; I would stand by and guard the door for her while she lay naked with her sister, if that's what she needed me to do; I would and did push down my own gut-wrenching love for her because I thought that's what she needed. Betraying Tegan is not even something I'm capable of doing. Even if I wanted to. And I've never wanted to.

So by now they must be in Hamburg. Did they go onstage as scheduled, last night? I don't know how that would have been possible. Sara had run off and Tegan had locked herself in the bathroom and before I left I heard her make a sound that made me think of an animal dying. Something _was_ dying. She couldn't have gone onstage. Thinking of the pain that she must be in right now makes me ache to go back to her and to comfort her and hold her like I did that first night in Vancouver but I can't force myself back into her life just because I know she needs someone. _I never want to see you again. . ._

But that was the point, wasn't it? She needed someone and I was there. I guess part of me knew the whole time that she needed someone, and that it didn't matter that it was me, that I wasn't especially what she needed or wanted. I could have been one of thousands of other girls who happily would have done it and the outcome would have been the same. Wouldn't it? She needed someone to hold her. She needed someone to fuck her and make her feel human again. How could I be so stupid to think that she actually loved _me_? Who am I? I'm no one. I was no one to her for years and I'll be no one to her again, just like that. I can't believe I let myself think that who I was actually mattered to her.

But she needed someone to know her, to know who she was, and love her anyway. And that was me, right? I did that. I'm still doing that. That was me, and not just anyone. That has to mean something. My destroyed heart needs to know that that meant something.

But now it doesn't even matter if it did. It's all fucking gone. It's over, it's all wasted, and there's nothing left. Love someone from the front row, for years. Then, incredibly, unbelievably, have a chance to love her up close. Then lose it, because she belongs to someone else, but at least you still get to be close. You have a warm, loving friendship, an understanding. So you learn to stand it because of that friendship. But then losing that friendship. . . losing it in a way that's just not true. Did I make bad choices? Lies of omission? Yes. But betrayal?

I'm crying again. The guy next to me, a nice guy, looks at me and I can see that he really would talk to me if I'd let him. But why? What does he want? People want things they can't have. They don't want the things that are right there in front of them. It's a waste, all the things I wanted, the things Tegan wanted, everything. What happened to them? Wasted love. What could be more tragic than that? All the things that are neglected, lost, abandoned, thwarted, destroyed, broken, wasted. . . when you compare all of those things to this, this fucking soul-crushing ache I feel in my guts when I look at her, well. . . all of those things just diminish like. . . fuck. Minutia. Talking to my mother on the phone about all the school I was missing, a few months ago. . . it made me insane because how could school fucking matter to me when. . . God, I can't.

So I will go back to my parents' house and wait for the new semester. I'll go back to school, eventually graduate, I guess. In the meantime, maybe I'll meet someone and try to love them when I really know that I never really will because there is none left, no space for anyone else. Eventually that person will realize that they can only have the leftover pieces of me. Which is all I could ever have of Tegan.

I feel like this pain is just going to smother me when I feel a tap at my shoulder. It's my neighbour again and he's handing me a little bottle. What is it? Red wine. He gives me a warm smile. I open the bottle, wondering if I'll ever care about anything ever again.


	45. Which Way, Which Way

**I tried SO FREAKING HARD to post this yesterday, and the stupid website just WOULD NOT let me post it. So, sorry about that! This one is dedicated to you guys... you deserve it for sticking with us!**

**Chapter 8: Which Way, Which Way**

I'm half-asleep and half-dreaming; I know I'm half-dreaming because I'm in this same bed, but Sara is with me, and it's the night before that fucking video leaked and our lives ended. But I'm not dreaming; I'm remembering, and I wish I could retreat into this memory and never come out again, because things were almost okay then, just then, and for the last time.

It had been a good show. We'd had dinner together at a local place afterwards - Sara and I, Jamie, the band - and when the buses rolled out, Sara and Jamie and I had watched some TV shows that we had on DVD. It was simple and good and I think everyone was in good spirits. Nobody was drunk or high and nobody had cried all day and while we were all there on the bus together, with no danger of anyone else suddenly intruding, I felt safe. Even so, it surprised me when I felt Sara's fingertips lightly trace over the inside of my forearm as we sat and watched the screen. It was late. I was sleepy but wanted to see the end of the show; Jamie had already fallen asleep on the end of the sofa, next to me; Sara finally gave up trying to stay awake and went to bed. When the show ended, I covered Jamie with a blanket, and she didn't move. I crouched down in front of her, so I could see her face. She was out. I smiled and kissed her forehead and went to the back of the bus to find Sara already asleep.

Something stirs in my guts as I see her there, lying on her back, with one arm flung back over her head. She's wearing a white v-neck t-shirt that she'd bought for six dollars in the boys' underwear department at Wal-Mart in Edmonton a few years ago, along with a pair of flannel pajama pants, blue, with little penguins on them. She's out cold and there's no reason not to look at her, no danger in it, so I look. I creep softly over to my side of the bed and sit down quietly next to her and do what I am normally too ashamed or embarrassed or scared to do even though I always want to: I allow my eyes to slowly move over her, to study her, her face, her body, all of it. In sleep, her face is different. She so often has this kind of cool reserve in her look, which I know is a mask but not many other people do, and now in sleep she just looks sweet, and without that coolness, her expression is gentle, her lips soft. My eyes move slowly down to the creamy white triangle of skin visible above her v-neck, and down over the full curve of her breasts, the slice of her belly between the t-shirt and the waistband of her children's pajama pants. And then, I can't help myself; I softly touch her belly with my fingertips; she moans a little but doesn't really wake up. I lay down next to her, propped up on one elbow, but then things are happening down below and holy Jesus, I want to touch her. I want her lips and her tongue and her body and her hands on me. I want to smell her so I lower my face, close to hers, to her hair, and breathe deeply, that green apple smell, and I touch her hair with my lips, and then her neck, warm and soft and she makes a murmuring sound but that's all.

"Sara. . ." I whisper, kissing her below her ear, and then on the triangle of flesh at her throat, that indentation that nobody knows the name of. She mumbles something, so I move my face close to hers.

"Tegan. . . I'm. . . asleep," she murmurs, not opening her eyes, and I kiss her lips softly. I want her to wake up so I can peel that t-shirt off of her and kiss her breasts. The shape of her nipples is visible through the thin white cotton. They're small and hard and I want to feel them; one of my hands slips under her shirt and up her stomach, over her ribcage and then the soft warm curve of her breast and she's so fucking delicious, I can't stand it. "Tegan. . . sleeeeeeeeeep," she moans, laying her hand over my hand, where it came to rest on her chest.

"I want you," I whisper, and I'm already wet but she's really, really asleep.

"Love you. . . go to sleep. . . " she murmurs, and I give up.

"Okay," I whisper, kissing her again, and her lips move just a little in response to mine, and then I lay down on my back next to her but there's no way I can sleep now. I'm lying with my left shoulder touching her right, and I can hear her deep breaths and feel her warmth and it's making me warmer, and after a minute of hesitation my right hand moves slowly down into my underwear. So yeah, I'm all wet down there already and when my fingers slide down, things start to swell and so I think I can just quietly quickly take care of it and go to sleep next to her so I start to make slow circles and to help move it along, I imagine things. I imagine Jamie and Sara together; in my mind I see Sara push Jamie's thighs open and I see the look on Jamie's face as Sara drew her tongue all the way through her. I think of looking up the length of Sara's naked body as Jamie kissed her deeply, her tongue sliding into Sara's mouth, and that made me burn all over for so many reasons, and I feel the heat of Jamie kissing me that way, too, when she's on top of me and my legs are wrapped around her, her hair brushing over my shoulder as she's pushing her hips into me and she's deep inside me, making my body shake. Then my generous mind takes me back to the time in my bunk, when the rarest of moments happened and Sara opened for me and my fingers felt the inside of her as she squeezed me and said my nameas she came. All of these thoughts are with me as my fingers press and stroke faster and I must move the bed a little or make a sound, I guess, because Sara mutters and rolls and then there is a quiet moment and then-

"Tegan. . ." her groggy voice, "what. . . are you. . . ohh," she says quietly, realizing, and for a moment I'm intensely embarrassed because even though it's pretty dark, I'm not under the blankets and she'll be able to see me with my hand inside my shorts but I can't stop now, even though her eyes are on me. What is she going to think?

For a moment I turn my head to her and open my eyes and her eyes are on me.

"Tegan. . . are you touching yourself?" she asks me in a low voice and I nod and don't stop, but I have to close my eyes because really, it's too much. "Did you get all hot but I wouldn't wake up?" she asks, her voice soft, with a slight hint of amusement and I nod again. "Were you all frustrated?" she goes on and I open my eyes and look into her eyes again and see it, the warmth, the amusement, and something else.

"Yeah," I manage to say and I see her eyes move down to where my hand is moving still.

"Are you almost there?" she whispers, and I nod again, her question sending a jolt right to where my fingers are touching. "Do you. . . need. . . help?" she whispers and I nod for the last time as she is on me, suddenly, first her hands on my face as she kisses me, so intensely, and I moan a little because of it. Her hand slides down my body and into my shorts, over my own fingers there and after a few moments I withdraw my hand because hers is better and her fingers are on me now, stroking where I was already almost there.

"Ohhhh," I can't help but whimper at the way her fingers touch me.

"You're so wet already," she whispers, and my face burns because we don't talk like that, Sara doesn't.

"Mmmhmmm," I agree.

"Why?" she asks, her breath on my neck as her hand presses and circles and I press my hips up against her hand because it's so fucking good and I can't help it.

"Because. . . of you," I whisper.

"What did I do to make you wet? I was asleep. . ." she murmurs, kissing me and then biting my lower lip very lightly.

"Because. . . you looked so good and I. . ." I try to explain, losing track of my sentence with the burning between my legs while tugging at the waistband of her penguin pants. It's awkward but I pull at them, my fingers slipping under the back of her underwear too, sliding them down a little and she shifts, helping, and they're gone and both of my hands are on her naked hips, and then her fingers are slowing their rhythm, stroking more softly, oh no, no, don't stop.

"Ohhhh," I say instead of _don't stop_ and she kisses me again and again, her tongue filling my mouth as my hand finds the inside of her thigh and then the place where she is hot and wet from touching me and she gasps a little. I was almost there and she backed off and it is making me a bit crazy but with one hand around her waist, holding her, my other hand is stroking her and she swells and warms against my fingers and with her mouth on mine, she makes little moaning sounds that make me even more wet and we touch each other, like that, together, and she's on top of me and I pull her shirt up her back and over her head with my other hand. Her fingers move against me a little faster again and her thigh is between my legs and feeling her too with my fingers and hearing her moaning in my ear is going to make me come soon, no matter what she does and I want her to come with me. So hard to concentrate on touching her when she's touching me, God, I want to let go and just let her take me away. She is on me and she slides up a little, which is good for my wrist but also, I can reach her breast with my mouth, so I slide my tongue over her hard nipple, close my lips around it and I can feel her response to that on my fingers as her head drops close to my ear, her breath warm there, deepening, and she's pressing against me with her thigh, with her fingers and it's building and I start to feel little spasms and I forget what my fingers are supposed to be doing for a second until a little painful moan from Sara snaps me out of it but oh I think I will finish before her but no, together, together so I increase the intensity of my fingers' movement against her, sliding down and back up, all the way through the hot wetness until she starts moaning again in my ear, and she's pressing now with her hips so that her thigh presses her own hand against me, harder, and my hand is pressed between her legs, and against my own body, and she grinds against it as she gets closer, and I get closer, and I kiss her chest above me, her skin hot and a little damp now and I look up at her face, her hair falling over her eyes, her mouth open a little, her brow furrowed as she rocks and sways there and just as I can't hold out any longer, her face tenses, her eyes close tight and her head goes back, holy God, she's so fucking beautiful and seeing her start to come makes the inside of me contract so hard, and that heat floods through me, and I make a sound in my throat, I don't know how loud it is, but she does too and my fingers are tingling as her belly spasms against me and my own spasms force my back to arch and I squeeze Sara's ass, pulling her into me a few more times and then her legs are trembling and she goes limp on top of me.

"Oh God," she murmurs as we breathe together, for a moment, pressed together, and I move my hands slowly up her sides, over her hot, damp skin, my fingers wet with her, and I'm not done.

She makes a surprised _mmmm_ sound as I roll her onto her back. Her face is flushed, damp; I kiss her mouth and she gives me her tongue and we have the same lips and I can never get enough of her lips, I can kiss her until they're chapped and sore, kiss her till they bleed, till they're numb, it's never enough.

Her hands slip around my waist as I press down on her, and she is tugging my damp shirt and pulling it up and over, and her hands around me unhook my bra and pull it away and oh, her naked warmth against my chest, together, I'm dizzy.

I kiss her mouth one more time, start my descent. How much of her skin can I taste on my way down? My lips on her neck, then her shoulders as her arms are around me. I kiss her chest, and then her hands are in my hair, on the back of my neck, and I feel her breasts with my hands, my mouth, and down, down. When I kiss her belly, it jumps, spasming under my lips.

"Tegan," she whispers, anxiously. We both know I haven't been down there when we were alone. We were drunk and Jamie was there and it happened and this moment now, alone, and sober, is so real. I look up at her eyes as I kiss her belly again, lower. "Tegan, it's. . . I'm. . . uh. . ." She's nervous, aroused. Her cheeks are red.

"It's okay," I whisper, and now my body is between her thighs, my hands on her hips, my lips graze over her navel, and I meet her eyes again. "I want all of you." She bites her lip.

"I. . . um. . ." she tries to say, but it's hard, because she can't close her legs; I'm lying between them, and I'm kissing her lower than her belly now, and I circle around the part of her that she wants to hide from me, and I kiss her hip bone, and lower, and one hand under her thigh raises one knee and I kiss her there on the inside of her thigh, the softest skin I've ever touched and I look at her again, her lips parted, uncertain.

"Tegan you. . . you don't have to. . ." and that surprises me, because I hadn't realized that she thought that.

"I want to. . ." I say, because oh my God.

"I'm not. . . it's not. . ."

"You're mine," I say. "It's mine. . ." and I press her knees back, and in a moment her legs are over my shoulders, and my hands on her stomach can feel her quick breaths, her nerves, and I feel like every girl I've ever been with has just been practice for this moment. I kiss her there and she gasps; I press my tongue into her slowly, and she moans.

I press against her thighs and she opens for me more. I want to taste everything; I taste the inside of her, hot and soft, and my tongue moves up, circles around the swollen part of her and her hips move, and she presses herself against my mouth and moans as I gently lick and suck at that tenderest part. Her hands are in my hair, pulling me to her and I can tell it won't take long.

Her hips are rocking now, against my mouth, and I can hear her murmuring, moaning, her breaths heavy and quickening. It's only a few more minutes, and her thighs are trembling and her breathing is quicker, and then quicker, and her moans become whimpers of "_oh. . . oh. . . oh. . ._"and she grabs my head with both of her hands and squeezes me to her.

"Oh fuck!" she cries out and I wonder for a second if Jamie can hear us but Sara's second cry is muffled. Her belly spasms under my hands and as my tongue flicks against her for a few more seconds, I'm surprised to hear her voice intensify behind whatever is muffling it, and then a trembling "Ohhhhhhh!" and she squeezes my head with her thighs, tightly, just as things suddenly get very wet. My face, her thighs, the sheets, all wet. "Oh my God," she moans, "Oh. . . oh fuck. . ." She's pulling on me now, and I quickly wipe my face on the sheet and return to her and her arms encircle me. "Oh my God, what. . .?" she breathes, squeezing me. Her voice, embarrassed, shocked.

"Did I. . . your face. . ." she says, and I pull the sheets over us and lay against the length of her naked body and I can still feel it trembling. "Oh God, I'm sorry," she moans, wiping a bit of wetness off of my chin with her fingers. "That's just. . . oh God."

"Haha, it's okay," I say, grinning at her, because it really, really is.

"Shocking," she whispers.

"Awesome," I say, smiling, a warm swelling of satisfaction in my chest, and I kiss her, and then lay down next to her and we curl to face each other. Her hands on my face, she moves closer, takes a breath.

"It's like I. . . peed on you. . ." she murmurs.

"It's totally not like that," I disagree.

"Oh my God, that. . . I didn't think that was. . . a real. . . thing," she says through her deep breaths, "that felt. . . " she can't finish and so I kiss her again, slowly, deeply, and the warmth of her skin and her arms around me are too much and my head spins. I watch her fingers trace over the tattoos on my arm, and in the silver light they are all black and white. My heart is so full, and it's fine for a moment, just now, because we're all alone and it's quiet and we're safe. Jamie is asleep on the sofa and she knows us and it's okay and nobody will come through that door. For a moment it feels like it doesn't have to be anyone else's business. She's just mine and I'm hers and we were designed that way and fuck everybody. This feeling overwhelms me because it's beautiful and I know it will leave me and we'll be scared again so I feel my eyes start to fill up and I bite my lip. Sara's hands, on my face, pulling closer.

"Hey, shhh," she says, knowing. I blink, shake my head.

"I'm okay," I say as her brow creases in sympathy.

"Don't cry, Tee," she whispers and I smile a little.

"I won't," I say back to her, and I don't. Instead, we kiss again and again, arms around each other, trying to put ourselves back together.


End file.
